We aren’t in love. Hell, we hardly even know each other. Our connection could best be described as
fleeting and fragile. But tonight, I really
need you to pretend. I need you to
pretend that you love me. I need you to
pretend that you can’t breathe without me.
Pretend that you don’t mind me crying on your shoulder and my tears
falling gently on your chest, that the weight of my leg across your thigh isn’t
a bother. Make believe that you love running
your hand along the curve from my waist to my ass, caressing my mocha-colored
skin with the tenderness of a long time lover.
Tonight, can you act as if my kiss resuscitate you, inspires you,
enchants you? In my imagination, you NEED to be inside me,
to connect with me as only lovers can do.
In my mind’s very creative eye, I very clearly see myself straddling
your body, gently guiding your hardness to my core, and looking deep in your
eyes as I slide my tight, hot, incredibly and intensely wet pussy down the
shaft of your dick. Can you feel
it? Pretend that you want, no neeeeeeed
to make love to me, to give me your heart and soul while I ride you, looking
deep in your eyes, communicating things to you that two virtual strangers
should never say. Do you think it’s
possible for you to pretend that when we cum, reaching the pinnacle of pleasure
in unison, that could you tell me that I mean more to you than you could have
ever predicted? I know it’s only pretend
but it would mean the world to me.
Scottie Lowe
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