Sunday, April 24, 2011

sex on the mind

    I'm in my fifth month of not having sex and it's hard. It's really, really hard. Mainly because I may have slipped and told a couple of coworkers that I was planning on staying celibate. They replied that sex isn't like pringles and that you can't stop it. That it's unreasonable to stop all of a sudden.

     I disagreed until recently. I started liking a guy from work (I know) and have been thinking bad thoughts about him. Very sexual thoughts that aren't romantic at all. I don't want to date him, I just want to fuck his brains out like now. I've been having daydreams of things where it starts off normal enough. I'm sitting in the lunchroom at work and I'm sitting by myself in a corner, when I see him walk towards me. He sits close to me and I feel flush over my entire body.
 
    He asks me how I'm doing and I give him this burning look. I plead with him to tell me something to make me not want to fuck his brains out. He blushes to the roots of his hair and I start to moan as if I'm having an orgasm. I bring my hand to my mouth as I bite my knuckles over the thought of him inside me.
"Fuck me, please." I groan as he stares down at his food.

        Next thing that I know, we're in this car and I'm straddling him. My pants and panties are around my ankles and I'm riding him like there's no tomorrow. He's pulling me down onto him and I grab his neck for dear life as I feel my pussy start to pulse in anticipation. My teeth switch between gentle bites and sucking on his neck in the hope of leaving a trophy of what we've done.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

The more you shall honor Me,
the more I shall bless you.
-the Infant Jesus of Prague
(<- Czech Republic, next to Russia)

No, having sex with a married partner isn't wrong, dear... yet, fornicating/adultery is. Believe-you-me, babe, I have done the five-finger-handjob for a looong time... yet, I prayed, prayed, prayed and prayed summore for the Don this last year and ta-da! he got elected cuzz America was tired of DC.

My point is, babe, that if you rely on our Mother (yes, Im Catholic), and the Saints (no, we dont worship'm; we only honor'm), and the Holy Spirit, she'll help you to gitt o'er THAT which leads U.S. along the whorizontal to Hellfire. And dats da troof, brudda.

Meet me Upstairs, lil one,
and we'll gitta Big-Ol beer
to discuss this further.
trustNjesus, dear,
and wiseabove to Seventh-Heaven
where this'll happen...

PS you must be at my place Upstairs for the most explicit, extremely exquisite and exhaustive, ethereal, psychotic, radical, tantalizin, stupendously-kick-ass, ultra-maximum-party-hardy at my place you ever encountered without d'New Joisey accent for an eternal slew of precarious, magnanimous and primeval absurdities etched in the Granite Corridoors of our eternity with a melt-in-your-mouth indulgence infinitely.

Cya soon...
Love you.
24/7.