Worthy Of Love

Over Nothing.

Olivia:

I felt his stare on my skin burning holes as I stood there watching the water come to rolling boil. I was resisting from clenching my thighs after last night. It was so damn good.

I am not comparing here, but the last time I had sex was with Jungkook and that night, I was drunk to oblivion to remember what he looked like, naked. I only remember how he made me feel. But last night, last night was burning in my memory like a scar from a branding iron. The touches which left a burning trail of goosebumps on my skin, the wet and open mouthed kisses at every curve on my body, the way his eyes ravaged me with his siren gaze, hooded hazel eyes peering into mine as I reached a new high that I did not know exist.

Jimin was a fairly handsome guy, oh who am I kidding? The man was unrealistically beautiful but when his shirt hit the ground, his light honey skin was shining under the moonlight. So far I have only seen him wear full sleeved shirts or tops, so when I witnessed his biceps flexing without any resistance, I drooled. I was never the one for drooling over physique but gosh, this man had me drooling a river. Every crevice of his bicep just accentuated his arm, his veiny forearms and hands had me clenching my thighs in order to not just have a orgasm from the view alone.

His thighs were a whole different story, how can a man who was so petite and looked angelic had thighs so sinful? I knew the answer all right, he was a dancer for the most of his life but it still didn't register how magnificent they looked. With a physique so exquisite, he walked like he owned the room, his black hair shining under the silver moon light and ruffled, only aiding to his good looks, his otherwise adorable face was rid of any adorable feature as he smoldered, his hair falling on his eyes which looked like they would devour me whole at any given point at that time. He tilted his head every time his tongue ran over his bottom lip, his hardened length was visible from his boxers and that drove me to insanity.

And the sex, oh the sex. I could dream about it every night, touch myself thinking about it and go to sleep after giving myself an orgasm as well. He was skilled, delicate yet rough. His dick was not exactly the biggest I have seen, if we're talking in porn standards which is a wrong comparison, I realise. But it was definitely my type, girthy and thick. And not to mention, he knew how to use it, that alone had me wanting some more this morning when I saw him sprawled adorably on my bed this morning. I was definitely screaming over it last night, he hit the right spot, he set the pace just right and stimulated me to make sure that I saw through my orgasm.

Before I knew it, a shameless whimper slipped my lips, completely forgetting the company that I had.

"Are you okay?" His silky voice drifted in the air.

Straightening up, I look at the water that was now boiling to my desired state. I nod my head and hum in response while mentally cursing myself for thinking about sex first thing in the morning. But, I cannot help it.

Sex has always made me feel powerful in a way, when I had been made feel powerless for so long, sex was a way of expression. I loved how men would lose it the moment they saw me sway my full hips, the hunger in their eyes that would give me the full control of their autonomy for a while. The kind of power that had, was thrilling. It also made me feel so sexy, whenever I looked at my body in the mirror naked, I would see a woman who was in control of her sensuality despite how fucked up she was in her head. One would think that I was a nymphomaniac, that I would sleep with every Tom, Dick and Harry when the reality was far from it.

I despised momentary sexual attractions, men who try to woo me as they wine and dine me just because they would want to go home with me that night only for me to get up, get dressed and never see them again. I was tired of that facade. I wanted more, more than a no strings attached and less than a relationship.