“Have you been fantasizing about me?” You ask, your fingers spreading me open. “You wanted this, didn’t you, dirty girl?” You ask when you feel how wet I am for you. The door isn’t even closed behind us when you throw me against the wall and start kissing me again, but this time your hands get to work getting me out of my clothes. We tumble out of the elevator at your floor and practically run to your room. “We’re almost at my room,” you whisper in my ear, reading my mind. It takes everything in me not to rip all my clothes off right there in the elevator, and I can tell you’re feeling the same way. You spin us around, pressing my back into the wall and kissing down my neck, heat rising in my body. Your hands find my sides and pull me in, and we kiss passionately, deeply, like we can’t get enough of each other. With words still failing me, I answer by kissing you and wrapping my arms around your neck. Your hand is on my lower back as you explain the work you’re doing in town, but my mind is focused on the sensation, barely registering your words. I can’t believe this is finally happening, after all my fantasizing. In the elevator, my pussy is throbbing with excitement. Like we’re not already half undressed in my head. I bite my lip like I have to think about it. We bump into each other at a coffee shop, and you stop me. Whether the thought of me is making you hard like the thought of you is making me wet. Whether you’re in your bedroom dreaming of me, stroking yourself. What I want you to do to me, what you’d feel like on top of me. Alone in my bedroom, my mind wanders, and it always comes back to you.
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