Time was short. Circumstances were constraining.
I didn’t want to come. She did. We each got our wish.
We had corresponded for over a year, but never met. Our drink was quick.
She is pretty, sexy. Her eyes danced with nasty thoughts. Her skirt was short. It was less than an hour between when we met and when we said goodbye. She left flushed, a big smile on her face, and an appetite for more – of my tongue, of my cock. And she left me similarly hungry for more – of her mouth, of her cunt.
Circumstances haven’t conspired to give us the more we crave, so we satisfy ourselves with terminal anticipation.