misogynyandbimbos:She’d lost his number. She’d ransacked her apartment looking for it,
misogynyandbimbos: She’d lost his number. She’d ransacked her apartment looking for it, gone through everything she owned three or four times, even dug through the dumpster looking for that cocktail napkin, but it was no use. He’d told her she’d want it in a few days, when he’d bought her a drink and pressed it into her hand at that ritzy bar last month, but she’d just thought it was pick-up bravado. Now she knew better, but it was too late. By now she was beside herself. She couldn’t stop thinking about his cock, imagining it in a thousand different shapes and sizes, knowing that it would be perfect. Her pussy was raw from playing with herself, and still she could barely focus on anything without daydreaming about how that cock would look, how it would smell, how it would taste when she took it down her throat or how it would feel sliding between the lips of her pussy, she was so fucking wet, he’d just slide right in and she knew she’d cum right away and she just knew that it would feel amazing even if he wanted to fuck her in the ass and come to think of it she wanted him to fuck her in the ass and she didn’t give a fuck about condoms because she needed to feel that cock and to have his cum inside her trickling from her pussy being gulped down her throat filling up her ass splashed across her tits FUCK She’d almost crashed her car into a building last week, and given up driving ever since. She’d looked everywhere, tried Google and Facebook and asking around at that bar, but all she knew was that his name was Kyle, and no one seemed to know who he was. The last two weeks, she’d been coming to the bar every night, barely able to keep her hands steady enough to do her makeup, staring at the door and hoping against hope that he’d walk in. But he never did. Plenty of other men approached her, of course. She was so wet all the time they could probably smell her pussy from across the room. It took all her willpower to fend them off, but she reminded herself that he could walk in any minute, and she needed to be here just in case. At the end of every night, when the bar was closing, she’d go home with one of them in a desperate bid for some relief. It was good, it was always good, but it never really satisfied her. What she needed was his cock, she fucking needed it, no one had ever needed anything as much as she needed his cock, she just knew it would fix everything if she could only have it inside her for a second if she could just feel it pounding into her she’d do fucking anything anything anything at all swear to GOD She called in sick to work the next morning, and got to the bar as soon as it opened. I like twists on the oh-so-happy bimbo. -- source link