If I have the power to change things, I will. "It is what it is" will not be a cop out.
On the Trail
"You're loud when you're high," I say with some amusement. Red eyed, you get up from the trail with dirt on your back after laying on the path.
"Get inside me... GET INSIDE ME." I don't know if I sound like I'm pleading or demanding. Currently, I don't care. I NEED you; it feels as if I'm on fire. With your fingers vibrating inside of me, your left hand choking my throat, and your mouth wrapped around my nipple... it's too much. I can't stop trembling and I begin to writhe, nearly coming off the foot of the bed, where my legs are dangling from.
Mindful Strides Submission
This is not your guided meditation. This is a woman who often stresses easily and has a small window for comfort; through walking around a mountain.
I open my mouth wide to receive your bulging penis. I'm excited to taste you, feel you. I want your hands on my breasts while I deep throat you, so with your dick still in my mouth, I grab your wrists and lead your hands to my chest. As you grope me, I dig my fingers into your ass and begin to swallow. You're big, so I work my mouth slowly, using my tongue to lubricate every inch before hungrily taking you in. With you standing over my head at the edge of the bed and me lying on my back, I get the whole view of you...
Oh fuck... I want you to cum inside of me. I want to feel your hands on my hips as you thrust from behind, and hear your staggered breathing while you pound yourself into me. I want to know what your cum feels like exploding in me with your head firm and bulging. God I love your dick.
I could feel his eyes on me while my hips swayed in a bright sundress. Then I felt fingers tease along my neck as we approached the door to our hotel room.
I wish... I WISH I could say I met this cop because I flirted my way out of a ticket. Alas, I have Tinder to thank. However, I'll probably take some creative liberty when I eventually write an erotic novel and make some bad joke about getting cuffed and put in the back seat for a different form of "going downtown."
I knew he was coming home with me. I hadn't met him in person yet, but I knew he'd be coming home with me. From the pictures of him on his motorcycle with sunglasses to the tattoos on his back; I knew I would not be coming home alone. I wasn't planning on him coming back with me. I wasn't hoping for it. I just knew.