“I’m trying to be less sketchy,” she said, explaining why she didn’t feel she could/should suck my cock in a hotel room procured solely for that purpose just minutes after we met.
She certainly didn’t look sketchy: she wore a professional-looking grey skirt suit that was tight, but not at all revealing. She looked like what she was: a sexy grad student who just had a job interview.
She is sketchy: we met through SeekingArrangement. I’m the least sketchy guy on there – I no longer have any interest in paying for sex. I know just how bad it makes me feel, how much hotter is the sex with a fully willing partner.
We shared a few kisses – they were, mostly, gentle, though I grabbed her hair, her head, to communicate the strength in my hands and arms, to show that, in just slightly different circumstances, she would feel that strength more directly, less obliquely.
We said good-bye, and went our separate ways.
I want her. I want her full lips wrapped around my cock. I want to watch the expression on her face when she comes, to see whether she bares her perfect white teeth, or whether her mouth is closed, twitching. I want to feel her body yield to my touch, to my pressure. I want to slide into her, to toss her around, to leave my mark on her.