Now he is insatiable…and there is a plan.

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She gets the impression he always gets what he wants and she is not good at saying no to anyone. Especially someone who makes her giddy when he touches her, and weak at the knees when his lips touch hers. And here she is, telling the man she fancies the pants off, that no, she can’t see him tomorrow night. Her pelvic muscles contract when she thinks about him. And locked in the bathroom with her Satisfyer Pro which she as finally, almost, worked out how to use, she looks at her reflection in the mirror and wonders what he can possibly see in her. The Pro vibrates against her pelvic bone, while the clitoral suction flicks her clitoris gently back and forth, the lightest caress increasing to the tongue flick she has never been able to bare in real life. Closing her eyes she remembers the warmth of his breath so close to her, and how she looked up, and then was barely able to see for the rush of blood that was flooding her body and corrupting her mind.

Now he is insatiable, a man who has heard her moan, felt her body shake and now wants her. To be wanted is what she wanted, and what turns her on. But when she can’t satisfy him now. It’s too late. It’s too cold, too dark, and too impractical. And to be frank, although his body runs hot like him, she is almost always cold and pneumonia is not something she is prepared to risk even for someone so fit.

His original invite to an empty house was tempting. But there was also an element of her knowing that she wants to be in control of what happens next. She has shown willing. She let his hands explore her, touching her, stroking there, and after a while sliding inside her. To feel him in her, his fingers softly exploring…

But now he is persistent. Hungry for her. The animal unleashed and she cannot, she will not oblige. As much as she wants him, aches for him, she must be strong. She has worth. She has standards. She will not be fucked in an alley after waiting all these years. She wants comfort. The softness of sheets, warmth, a place to lay her head. A place to rest after the intensity of his lust and penetration.

Today she admitted to Kate what her #christmaswishwas – her #dream of him and her – and Kate tutted, and she could sense the shake of the head through the phone line.
“Oh Daisy, you have so much invested in this! You can’t sleep with him. Not if you want a relationship! You mustn’t!”

And she does agree. Almost. But then she checks herself and realizes that they have known each other for years and wouldn’t she rather know? Know that they weren’t compatible? That they didn’t fit. Weren’t meant to be so entwined…

But as the evening progresses she grows weak… His words seduce her and she falls into the honey trap of arousal caused by his sweet delicious words.

 

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