Miss Jackson if you're nasty

There is a new guy at work. He's not teh_hott but he's cute in a bookish way---wire rimmed glasses and not too short, not too long wavy hair. He's a mere boy really. And yes, Mrs.Robinson Sabine is crushing on him a little. Ok, it's more like fantasizing, fine. While I generally lean toward lusting after older men, everyone once in a while I meet a younger man like this, all fresh, firm, and muscular, and think "I'd like to teach him a thing or two." Not that an older man can't be firm and muscular mind you. Unfortunately I never got the chance to touch, (or taste for that matter) so I can't vouch for dear Griffin. I know he was athletic, and the man did love to brag about his prowess in bed to torture me.

Anyway, back to the boy. What gets to me is his voice; he has this wonderfully rich, deep, baritone voice. It reverberates inside me when he talks. And he runs. So we talk about running naturally. I admit I might let on that I am more physically fit in that department than I actually am, but I bet he is exaggerating a tad too. *weg* Suddenly, I am picturing him with no shirt on, all tan and sweaty from a 5 mile run, whispering in my ear in that deep voice, while some of that sweat drips down my own neck, and dips into my cleavage. Oh won't you lick it out sweetness?

Ok, however, I was in the middle of a fantasy about being submissive. Did you like the "I am broken like a wild stallion" line? ROFL. I amuse myself to no end. I think I like doing the smut very abstract and free form, so I am going to do that again.

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Where we left off

With one hand you have my wrists clasped above my head.
The other works on the buttons of my blouse.
Back to the wall of your motel room.
Kissing me.
Hard.
A rush of nerves chokes me.
You could hurt me.
Bad hurt me.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

A smile belies serious eyes.
Kind eyes
Warm eyes.

"Do you trust me? You need to trust me."

I close my eyes, part my lips, and press against you, aching for contact.

I trust you.

You believe me.
Oh yes, you do.
Yanking down my jeans
My hands stay where they were
Of their own volition
Push the straps of my bra off my shoulder
No need to unclasp them
Cup, squeeze, roll
I moan
You grip my wrists again
You take me to the bed
On my belly
Your belt buckle jingles
Like Santa
against my back
Oh sweet pressure
I raise my hips
Grind to feel your dick between my legs
My folds
You push me back down.

"Not yet. Patience darling, I'm calling the shots here."

*************
Sorry kids, but I must go get sleep now. Despite my own throb, *snort*