484. We we we so excited
Can someone make sure that all the horrors and killers of Friday the 13th are all going for Rebecca Black?
483. 6 hours of sleep in 48 hours.
It is all because I am epic and I am punishing my bed.
482. I lost count
So i’m starting at a random number. *laughs*
now look in the eyes of the person next to you and say it out loud ;|
(Source: raconteurgirl, via fknbastard)
All through the day i’ve been receiving texts saying how wet you are.
“My knickers are knotted up tight in my cunt. I’m at my desk and can barely move for the way the lace, my nylons are teasing against my clit, my lips. Each breath I can barely take rubs my nipples against the inside of my bra. I fucking want you.”
It made me so hard I couldn’t leave my desk. I know how you get when you’re like this. Primal. Ravenous.
That’s why I chose to ignore it.
More texts from you as the day went on …
“Everyone thinks i’m working hard, i’ve stayed in at lunch, am doing my best to distract myself. But I can only think of the moment I can get you. When I tighten my fist around your hand and feel how hot and hard your cock is. When my cunt trembles at the thought of you pushing inbetween, that delightful glide as you own my oxygen. Christ, I want to fuck you. Please reply”
I think of that grip upon my cock and I straint against my boxers. Suited, in the office, I sigh at your words. But still I choose to ignore them. This makes you angry.
“Where the fuck are you and why haven’t you replied. You are in so much trouble when I leave here. I’m torn as to whether i’m going to have a go at you, or i’m going to fuck all my anger out on you. Which makes me wetter. I think of your lips, your teeth upon my nipples. Just how you get when you get angry and take me. Are you angry? Have I done something to upset you? I’m too wet to care. Please reply”
I ignore you again. And every text thereafter. Until I get home.
I stay suited. And read them. You’ve worsened. Livid. Horny as fuck.
I hear your car pull into the driveway. Hear your heeled stride as you walk to my doorway. The knock.
I ignore it.
The knock again. Louder. Longer.
I make my way to the door.
You throw me a look as you tear off your clothes. One of “what have I done wrong” and pure lust anger fuck. You don’t know which. It’s delicious.
And i’m wearing that black pinstripe suit that makes you weak. My tie undone just a little. My expensive shoes shined. My hair just right.
And that look in my eye that tells you that i’ve played you. That you are in trouble. that i’m as horny as you are. And i’m going to fuck out of you your most vociferous screams.
(via lumieres-home)
(via guidedbyme)
(via bitchybells)
(via infatuatedgeek)
