So before I move on - speaking of age - to talk about my fun NYC day (with pictures if I can manage that) - let me post my entry for Alison Tyler's "Heartbreaker" contest. Sommer Marsden penned my favorite - "She Deserved It" and reading mine you can figure out why.
"He's fucked up, you don't want that," my friend said.
"Yes I do." I told her.
I want you. Have for a long time. We've never even kissed - and I oh so want to. I've dreamt of your tongue. I want to feel your hands on my skin, your lips on my throat. I want to explore your body, touch you in ways that no other woman has. Just thinking about what might be ... if we ... oh ... hell ... now I'm wet.
Just then Heartbreaker came on the radio. "That damn song is gonna be stuck in my head now." I said.
"Yeah, it does kinda have that sticky quality to it." she replied.
"But I want to release my inner fantasy. " I quipped.
I like sticky. I like messy. I want it. Want our saliva and sweat to mingle. Want to lick that drop of salty nectar from the tip of your excited cock. Want you to taste me before and after we fuck ourselves silly.
"Don't dare tell him," she advised, "it's better he never knows."
"Stop being my conscience. Maybe I'm sick and tired of being miss goodie two shoes. I know all about the arguments against and I still want him. And yeah, I know I'm married."
"Don't go there." she warned.
I smiled. Oh, I've gone there. In my dreams it's quite nice. Both of them. With me. Hands. Fingers. Lips. Cocks. Makes me dizzy just thinking ...