I was sitting in class and I nearly fell out of my seat as my phone buzzed against my thigh. I had been taking a small catnap during my Theory of Politics class when you text messaged me. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the screen. The words that popped up when I opened the message simply said, “I had the most wonderful dream last night… makes me think of me bending you over and holding your hips…” And that was it. I almost let out a small moan in the middle of the class and then smirked, wondering if that is what you wanted.
From then on I spent the day in agony. In my school there were no places private enough to sneak off and relieve myself of some of this tension that I felt building up inside of me. It’d been two days since I last had an orgasm and all that I could think of was sex.
I walked to my next class, noticing the dampness in my underwear. I was wearing your favorites today. The black ones that fit me so nicely with the lip marks on the front, just below the waistline. The ones that leave so much to the imagination since they cover everything, as opposed to the normal thong which I find so comfortable. You always loved peeling them off of me and just throwing them somewhere in the room. They beşiktaş escort were almost a decoration in your apartment. But now all I could think about is how good it would feel to have them and my pants off… and to be in your house and have you between my legs fucking my brains out.
As I walked the three blocks to my next class I began to think of the word “fucking” and the implications that came with it. All I could think of was the animalistic drive and how deeply I craved it.
In my next class my mind wandered again. We were reading poetry and a certain stanza mentioned a room that smelled of sex so my mind shot out of my body and into the world of my fantasy, so I suppose this could be my confession to you, because even though I love you, it was not you I fantasized about that moment.
What I pictured as the class continued on about me was sneaking out of the room to stretch my legs out and just wandering the hallway. Not far behind me, the man who had written the poem would sneak out as well, not sure why, but just knowing he wanted to. I watched him as he passed by and realized he was as tense as me, and his cock was pressing against the confines of his jeans. He took a step beşyol escort closer to me and without a word grabbed me by the back of my neck, bringing his lips harshly against mine. It was the hardest kiss I ever had as his tongue drove into my mouth and I sucked on it as if it were a cock, savoring the salty taste of his mouth.
Before I knew it, my back was pushed up against the wall in a small phone booth that had been installed into the school when it was first built. It was tiny and we both just barely fit in there with the bench and the pay phone, but we managed. As you began to unfasten the belt you wore, I unbuttoned my jeans and quickly kicked them off. When they were off and your favorite panties were piled atop them, his pants were off as well and he was kissing me again. His hand slid under my shirt, sliding up to cup my breast, fingers squeezing the soft flesh as it nearly spilled out of the half-cup bra that encased them so beautifully.
He slammed the door of the phone booth behind us and pushed my back against the wall, nice and hard, forcing a moan out of me. Anyone could walk by and peer into the phone booth, but we didn’t care.
There was no foreplay. Before I knew it, the beykent escort head of his hard cock was pressing against the lips of my pussy. I expected him to savor the moment, but instead he just slammed up into me. My pussy spread for him as he filled me completely, every inch of him throbbing inside of me as we fucked. This was fucking… hot, up against a wall with someone who was close to a stranger, a hand holding my breast and a hard cock in my pussy.
Without a word he fucked me harder and harder until we both screamed with orgasm. He pulled out, spraying hot cum all over my stomach and on my black shirt as my body trembled, my pussy contracting.
The sound of our panting filled the small phone booth as his hand moved away from my breast and we began to calm down. He opened the door and quickly bent down to pick up his pants as I picked up mine. We dressed quickly and I returned to class. I could feel the eyes on me as I sat down, my cheeks flushed, my chest still heaving and my black shirt with white stains on it. Everyone knew what I had done, but no one would dare ask me what happened. A few moments later he walked in and just barely looked at me before sitting down.
When I looked back up at the class I was blushing, knowing that someone must know what I was thinking. I looked at the man I had just fucked in my mind and blushed even more, the hot blood of my body all rushing to my cheeks.
I spent the rest of the day writing dirty poetry for you… Just wanted you to know what you started.