Tell me more…

Who did you meet for drinks Violet?

My old friend Layla, I haven’t seen her for years so it was really good to catch up. Also I’d forgotten how incredibly beautiful she is.

He sat back in his chair, poured himself a glass of wine and said:-

Tell me more darling.

Oh she grew up in France so she’s elegant and beautiful in that very French way. She has eyes that pierce, green eyes, olive skin, she shines, she’s sexy.

Sexy?  I like that. What is it that makes her sexy?

Everything about her, the way she talks, the way she dresses, her legs, the way she crosses her legs, hey, hang on a fucking minute…

I was turning him on!

Really turning him on. His eyes had taken on that glazed look, that very oh god yes this is working for me look, like more more, oh god yes tell me everything now look…

He was getting horny thinking about somebody else.

I considered slapping him. Maybe knocking the wine out of his hand. Leaving the room.

But I didn’t.

Because it was working for me too.

I poured myself a glass. Took off my shoes. Curled up, next to him.

And carried on..

She never wears a bra. Her breasts are perfect. Her nipples, round, dark, you can always see them through her shirt.  I want to lean over, touch them, feel them.  I remember the one time I did, I…

He reached over.  Kissed me. Hard.

Unzipped my skirt.

And I carried on talking.

It was so good. So damn good.

Even though we were talking about somebody else.

Maybe because we were talking about somebody else.

Somebody else.

A fantasy…


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