Pretend

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