Inappropriate lust
The look on his face displays a mix of lust and confusion. I hesitate, then ask him about it.
“What?”
Maybe my question isn’t eloquent or smart, but I know he gets it.
He stares at me silently from three feet away. Will he answer?
I lick, then bite my lips. I have all the time in the world.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Finally, he meets my look and speaks.
“I want to feel something.”
I figured as much, but let him have his moment. After a pause, I push him to elaborate.
“What do you want to feel.”
I frame it like a statement, not a question.
He doesn’t hesitate.
“Your mouth around my cock.”
There it is. As if I didn’t know know it already.
Immediately, my appetite wakes up from its dormant slumber. I never had him there, or anywhere, really, but now I want him in my mouth. I want to feel him stiffen and grow, awash in my desire and drool.
He notices the change in my demeanor and keeps going. If he knows one thing about me, it’s that words matter.
