Day 2 of the dry spell

It's ending on day two of my quest to be celibate. I haven't fucked myself, I haven't been fucked and I'm thinking about how long I can go. That being said, I still have a tiny part of me that wants to be fucked. That wants to feel someone's body on top of me as they slide in and out. That's what I want.


So without further ado, here's my open letter to a guy that I will not ever fuck.(Mainly because he doesn't see himself in me at all.)

Not so pretty
By: Me

         I was in work today, my red nails typing on the register when it hit me. This wave of heat radiated its way into my skull as I thought about you, taking me behind the register. How your hands would feel as they'd pull my hair back. The hotness of your breath as you'd ask me if this is what I want to do. To show the customers how much of a slut I really am. Biting my neck as one of your hands would travel down my body, before slowing opening my pants and fucking my clit. This was my saving grace at work today and then I read your email.
         Part of me doesn't care that you're in love with someone else. It's just sex to me and that part wants to just lose itself in random sex. To not feel anything at all but pain of fucking. I'd wish you would agree so I could imprint myself onto you. So you'd remember me in every shape, way and form. To see scratch marks years later and smile at how I made them. I'd love for you to be as violent as possible to me during sex, so I'd remember why I'm alone. I'd grin at the fucking my holes, as if I'm nothing but a play thing for you to fuck. Damn the emotions and exes and just fuck with nothing but lust.

But you're a good person and that's why the huge part of me is glad you said what you said in your email. Mainly because I'm too fucked up to get fucked at the moment.