Anticipation

An astonishingly hot feast on a stranger’s pussy.

Anticipation is hot. Waiting? Not so much.

A year of correspondence, less than an hour together, and she left flushed. We’re both still hungry.

That moment when my cock begins to wake up — there’s nothing quite like it.

A fantasy I’d like to make real, involving a hotel bar, black dresses, boyshorts, and very specific instructions.

Continuing to elaborate on the logistics and choreography of my core fantasy. The devil, as they say, is in the details.

The logistics of assembling a group encounter, and a candid note on the difference between gently preferring something and dangerously needing it.

I meet, and prepare to use, Luna.

The anticipation of what’s to come is almost better than the coming.

Is it presumptuous of me to imagine what happens next?