I think he wants me. Maybe I should know by now, but there’s a lot of wiggle room in that sentence. 

He wants me. What does he want? How does he want it?

The same is true of me as well. Yes, it’s easy at night when I lie in bed alone and close my eyes. Then I want everything. I want to kneel in front of him and make him hard with my mouth. I want him to choke me and slap me and tell me I’m a good little girl. And then, as I lie under the covers with my fingers between my legs, I picture him holding me down, pushing his cock into me, and fucking me like it’s a scene from a movie. 

Hard and fast and raw until I know he can’t hold back, and he floods my pussy like a geyser.

And maybe he imagines those things as well. But we’re friends, and we’re cautious, and does he have the nerve? Do I want him to? Would I say yes if he asked? Or didn’t?

When we get together, I can feel the tension. It’s mainly in my stomach, but it spreads outwards from there, and I’m not sure what to do with it. I’m second-guessing my fantasies now that he’s in front of me, and he’s not rubbing his hand up my leg with a wicked smile that says he’ll take what he wants…

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