13
I Don't Want To Capture His Heart, I Want To Help Him Set It Free
The morning after our little coffee date, I opened my eyes and smiled after remembering what had happened the day before. I grinned and put my hands over my mouth as I laughed. I'm in love.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, still laughing. I may have looked a bit insane but that's what he does to me.
I pulled the covers over and rolled onto my front, not wanting to wake up. I could feel the sun shining through the window and thought of what it would be like if he were here. Our chests rubbing together as we made love, slow and lazy in the morning. His hand wrapped around us both, slowly stroking us. We wouldn't be in a rush.
At the thought of this, my hand snakes down to my semi hard member and I slowly stroke myself. I start to think of his hands, how they form the most beautiful and abstract art, and are capable of making me feel this way.
I pick up the pace and thumb the head as I feel myself get closer. "J-Josh fuck." I imagine him attacking my neck with kisses as he releases inside me.
I feel the heat in my groin area and tense up everywhere. I climax, moaning his name and lay there for awhile, catching my breath. We would lay together after having sex, his hand would reach for mine and I would grab it. He would bring my hand to his mouth and kiss the top. Then we would fall asleep together and wake up at noon.
I sigh at these thoughts. Knowing that they may not even come to pass gives me a knot in my stomach.
His face always looks like it's been kissed by tragedy, like the only emotion that's come across it is sadness.
Maybe I can teach his lips happiness with mine.
