~ a Gent moment ~
“I’m really good at it.”
“Kissing. That’s why I was asking back there why you don’t. Might have something to do with the tongue ring. Or the oral fixation. Or really both. But it’s a shame you’ll never get to experience it.”
“Totally. Such a shame.”
I missed this flirting, this tete-a-tete we have. Our banter. I volley, you return, and we go stroke for stroke for however long you allow the rally to last.
I am an amazing kisser. Many have confirmed this. People underestimate the value of variety, playfulness, and control of your tongue. Not only do I have a tongue ring, but I can also clover my tongue. Genetics. And, well, talent.
I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted you to sink your fingers into my hair, grip my locks, and pull my face towards your lips, us melting into a passionate kiss. Intense. Gasping for air. Tongues at once battling and dancing. Lightly biting my lip.
My fantasy is us fucking and kissing. Moaning into your mouth while I’m cuming. But that’s my fantasy, not yours.
Unconsciously, mostly, I tend to accentuate my mouth when I am around you. Today it was the milkshake straw. And the fork. Playing with my tongue ring. And biting my bottom lip.
You said I should get rid of my tongue ring. It tells the whole world that I’ve sucked cock, which is a true statement but not the best look for a budding professional. But I love it. I love playing with it. I love forgetting it’s there and then remembering all over again those moments that it helped create. I’ll probably get a clear spacer; fair compromise.
You jacked off twice before seeing me so we wouldn’t fuck today. Twice. Forever in control.
Still, it’s lovely to be wanted, desired, even if nothing came of it today except conversation. And thoughts of one long passionate kiss.
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