We’ll have dinner.
“Sushi is my favorite food,” she told me.
Easy. I fucking love a good sushi meal, and am delighting in discovering all the best options near me. An excuse to visit another on my list (derived in part from Cleo‘s list).
My cock is hard in anticipation.
My relationship with Serena doesn’t – at the moment – allow me to feel comfortable instructing her on what she should wear. Perhaps it will, one day. Perhaps it won’t. While – of course – I would love to engage in the delicious anticipation-building exercise with her of choosing all her clothes, of seeing as she dresses – I’m quite content, in the moment, to allow myself to imagine the possibilities.
Will she wear sexy jeans and a top?
A sexy dress?
Leggings that show off her unbelievable ass?
A demure skirt and blouse?
And the evening we’ve planned consists, at this point, solely of dinner.
I know she wants my tongue on her clit. I know I want my tongue on her clit. We both know that I want to kiss her. To feel her mouth on my cock. And, I’m pretty sure she wants all that, too….
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