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Eoghan
Jesus Fucking Christ…
My cock turns to steel reading this fantasy Jillian has come up with. It’s bloody brilliant.
Only, it sickens me to think she’d type these filthy things to a stranger when only hours earlier, I asked to fuck her.
And she turned me down.
Is she doing this because she thinks she can’t have me?
With my shirt open from the doozy of a photo I sent her of my abs, enhanced by a filter to see all the etched ridges, I glance down at my phone and read it again.
Gemma7: How’s this for a fantasy… I park my car a few miles out of town, someplace where the night is pitch black. I’ll slip into my backseat, get myself heated because I can’t take the lustful agony another second. You drive up, see my car on the side of the road, stop to help me, see me and… Well, I’ll let you take it from there, Casanova.
Me: That’s quite a fantasy.
Gemma7: Too much?
I laugh into my scotch. “Oh, sparkles, I will show you too much and make your pretty head spin off your shoulders.”
Without any specifics of what I’m to do when I see her, my dirty mind goes dark, real dark. I’ll make her rethink using this app with a stranger and then come crawling to me, a man she can trust for her lustful games.
Somewhat. At least I won’t murder her on a deserted road in the desert. Is she out of her fucking mind?
God, I want to spank that arse and fuck it until she promises to never look at another man again.
Gemma7: Hello? I asked you if my fantasy is too much for you?
Yes, I’m having a goddamn heart attack. But I type…
Me: Not at all. Of course, you’ll need to tell me the make and model of your car, license plate, too. Unless you want to risk some real stranger ripping off the door to your Honda and pinning you to the backseat face down and fucking you until you’re creaming all over his cock.
A few seconds pass and I wonder if I came on too strong.
Gemma7: How do you know I drive a Honda???
My fingers freeze above the keyboard. Shite. I can’t let anything like that slip again. She drives me crazy, this one.
Me: You drive a Honda?
Gemma7: Yeah.
Me: So do thirty million other people. It was a lucky guess. Just shows we’re on the same page.
Gemma7: What do you drive?
Me: My cock into your wet cunt…
I almost hit send but realize that’s too close to how I would answer her in person.
And what if we have to take a drive somewhere and she recognizes my car? Motherfucker, I have to get a second rental for this.
I delete my earlier reply and say:
Me: Let that be part of the mystery.
Gemma7: How will I know it’s you? We HAVE to have some kind of safety code.
