Let’s take a moment to appreciate this short story, a thick woman’s thoughts. Poetry by, the muse …
She was anxious,
waiting,
longing …
The taste of his lips,
the smell of his skin,
the skillfulness of his fingers
engraved into her mind
and on her skin …
She wished he was there,
watching her with that
seething hunger that he oozed.
She wanted him to see her,
to breathe her in …
She wanted him to know how he made her feel.
How her nipples stood at attention for him …
How her pussy dripped and clenched for him.
How she swirled her fingers over her clit when she thought of him
—– only him …
But she’d have to wait …
Welcome to Room 2.
