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Why Am I So Wet?

"The way she looks at me ignites something inside of me."

By Catriona HectorPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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Why am I so wet? The way she looks at me ignites something inside of me. Her arm grazes my arm so gently and I feel the sensation travel down to my deepest spot. Does she deserve my sweet nectar? I fuck around and I fuck around a lot. I fuck for the numbers. I fuck for satisfaction. I don't fuck to feel emotions or for a connection. Don't tell me that you love me. I don't believe in that. Just touch me... No, let me touch you. Don't touch me, touch me not — that is who I am. Please don't turn me off. Let me touch you and tease you. My job is to pleasure and excite you. Open the doors. Let me search your corridor. Let me find the spare bedroom that has never been opened. Let me in. Let me bring you into another world with my sense of movement. Let my tongue talk to you and my fingers make fake love to you. Baby, let me fuck you. "I love you," she says. What is love? I say it back 'cause if I don't, I won't get what I really want. So, I guess I love you, too, baby.

She flipped the script. She fucked my mind. She fucked my hot slit without touching my clit. She fucked me senseless by just laying. Was it her, or the way her softness felt in my mouth. Was it that honey that flowed out when I hit that spot? Or was it her sultry smell that enticed me? The way she moaned with ecstasy and delight, or the way she noticed the strokes of my movement? How she rode my wave? How her body followed my rhythmic flows?

The powers she had to make me fight my feelings: "I think I love her," "Nah, I don't love these hoes," and " Why am I so wet?"

Was it her, or her softness...?

It was her softness. It melted me. The smell — it's nectar. I was a slave to its spell. It made me say things and feel things that I would regret later. How do you leave such a beautiful but toxic thing?

"I need to get it together," I said. "Last meal," I shouted. "Last senseless fuck," I exclaimed. "Last earth-shattering climax without her touch," I cried. I will no longer be pussy-whipped. I will no longer be a slave. I gave softness, the nut she begged for. She gave me the nut I never asked for. I gave her a death kiss as we parted, pronouncing to never suck her sweet nectar again, for she will be the death of me.

Why am I so wet? Why am I so wet?

I love her. but I will never tell her. I want her again, but I will never tell her.

erotic
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