Greedily, you gasp for air, lungs raw and on the edge of burning. That time was almost too much. Salt tears stream down your cheeks and mix with the thick spittle coating your face. A deep, warm ache ebbs in your thighs as you struggle to stay sat on your feet despite the steel hook neatly nestled in your tight arsehole insisting that you stand and relieve the pressure. You give your head a quick wobble to shake the bright spots from your blurred vision and refocus on the task in front of you.Their cock hangs inches from your lips, heavy and pulsing, swinging chains of saliva from its angry veins to your chin, joining the river of spit that runs between your breasts and down beyond. Pooling between your thighs and mixing with the slow drip of your sodden cunt. You look up at them and smile, doe-eyed and eager to please, ready to welcome their thickness back into your mouth. Happy to feel the ridge of their cock head push past your wet lips and against your soft palate. Wanting the girth to fill you. Needing to envelop every inch of their hardness with your warmth. Craving the scent of their pubic hair as you bury your nose in it, pushing that length as far down your throat as you can. Living for that feeling of nearly drowning in dick.…You had matched with them that morning, after a late night of cheap wine and mostly swiping left. Groggily logging in, you found Bostancı Escort their message waiting, asking how you were and what you were looking for. ‘Hungover is how I am’, you thought, ‘coffee and bacon is what I’m looking for…’, and you closed your phone and dragged yourself out of bed. Warm sunlight poured through your windows and you figured it was too hot for anything but an oversized tee, so you opened up your closet and plunged a hand into the space reserved for ‘shit your exes have left behind’, pulling out a soft cotton white raglan with burgundy sleeves. You brought it to your nose and were consumed by memories of deep kisses, sweet bourbon on their lips and tongue, and a stiff, eager cock. Yes, you remembered that one well, and as you felt the fabric run across your heightened nipples your body blushed.Coffee in hand and breakfast consumed, you sat on the sofa bed of your apartment and wondered what the weekend would bring. Your friends were all parenting. Both fuck-buddies were out of town. You’d pretty much completed Netflix (and Chill) by yourself over the past couple of months of singledom. Your thumb casually tapped against your phone screen, as if subconsciously alerting you to the message you ignored, libido half awake and in need of sustenance. Your face automatically unlocked your phone and you logged into the Bostancı Escort Bayan app.‘Hi. Glad we matched. How are you? If it’s not too forward, may I ask what it is you’re looking for on here tonight?’You hovered over the keyboard. It was a little forward, but that excited you a touch. Your blood stirred at the thought of some uncomplicated fun, even if it was just some casual sexting. Your thumbs caressed the screen in reply.‘Hi yourself! Yeah, that is pretty forward but I’ll allow it…! I’m good, thanks. You? I’m after some company, maybe a drink, maybe a little more.’Giddy with anticipation you locked your phone and skittered it across the sofa bed, quickly looking away as if to not give the butterflies in your stomach any more nectar to flutter around.The urge to check the app kept tapping you on the shoulder as you tried to get on with your day. You could feel the pull of your phone from the other room as you brushed your teeth. The lyrics from the songs on the radio were gibberish because your mind was constantly picturing what the reply might be. Even your daily shower wank hung on the possibility of this new connection forming and you quickly but gently came, your fingers massaging your hood as you imagined the words this person might write back.Naked, damp, and languishing in your post-orgasm glow, you flopped yourself Escort Bostancı on the bed and couldn’t help checking if you had a reply. The notification vibrated, almost as if your own anticipated trembling was being mocked by the phone. You bit your lip as you touched the screen and opened the message.‘A little more? We’ll have to see just how little or how much that actually is. I’ll be at the underground bar on 7th from 9 pm. Booth 4. I look forward to meeting you.’Fuck. That’s it? No more flirting, no more game? Just, “I’m here, come get me…”?! You locked your phone and slid it out of reach in disappointment then buried your face in the duvet, forcing a low groan into the soft covers. The moisture on your bare back and legs cooled as your annoyance turned to mild anger. A shiver ran across your skin and reminded you to get dressed and head out to work, hoping the commute would clear the furious fog clouding your thoughts.All through the afternoon’s chores, the audacity and expectation of that message burned in your chest. Who the fuck did they think they were?! Could they not see you were a catch and were worth a little back and forth, at the least? With every passing hour, your incredulity grew to the point of choosing an outfit, the one you felt most confident and comfortable in. A strong, sexy ensemble that would show them what they were missing. High boots. Enough thigh to make them look and then check their gaze. The same goes for the slightly sheer top that makes men double-take whether they have just seen a nipple when the light hits right… A confident smile crept across your face. They were going to see exactly what they could have won.