You were out on a man date with a horrid little creature who had a moustache. What was he thinking? What were you thinking? I was out with my work friends. We bumped into each other in a club, sort of accidently on purpose.
We got a little drunk... well I got very drunk so you must have been inebriated.
I needed to use the bathroom so I took you with me for the walk. I dragged you into the toilets and undid your jeans.
Your smell entices me. Its masculine and full and it breaths and radiates from you. I took you in my mouth plainly, sucked deep and wanting. I do this better than your wife could, I do it better than you would have ever contemplated it could be done. I played you for a while then put you away and we returned to the bar.
Later that night I talked sharply with you. I expressed my wants and you said you couldn't give me them and that makes me wonder why we still pursue this. The vile little moustached man wouldn't go away. So I took us away. I sneaked us away. I walked out in the cold and couldn't forget myself, my head was busy, unfulfilled, so I filled my mouth with you instead.
I slid down the cold wall and perched between your legs, you thrust hard into my mouth and I did my best. I moaned a longing for pain at you and you smacked me across the cheek and I was surprised and entranced. You made me choke, you made me gag so hard, the violation was ribbed with anger, even though I had been a very good girl. I tasted your fluid as you shot it towards my throat, coating the roof of my mouth like a painter. I grasped my hand to my lips as you spilled out between them like blood. I gagged hard and enjoyed the moment.
I give you so much power and pleasure. When we are together I give myself up to the situation completely. I would never play half a game with you, so what will you give me?
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