TheBigO: Oh, like a safeword.
I’ve never in my life needed to have one of those involved in the bedroom.
The longer I read, the harder my dick gets thinking of holding her down and ravaging her while her body rebels, crying out in reluctant ecstasy.
Forcing her to come as she tries to fight me, knowing it’s what she wants.
Fuck, what is RQ doing to me?
Holy shit. Roped to a bench?
TheBigO: This whole tie-down bit part of it?
RacingQueen: That’s so damn hot.
TheBigO: You’re killing me.
RacingQueen: I’m opening your eyes.
TheBigO: There’s not many women like you.
RacingQueen: So?
Would I be able to tell just by looking at her?
Does she run around in black leather and a spiked collar? Dark eyeliner and a pierced lip?
Maybe she’s the tan cardigan with thick glasses and a mousy bowl cut?
Either way, my cock is leaking in my jeans.
Every time I talk to her, I have more questions than answers.
I’m pretty sure I’m older than her, yet I’m the mild one.
TheBigO: It’s not a bad thing, just makes you…special.
RacingQueen: And picky.
TheBigO: That’s smart. I have a feeling that the wrong person would take advantage of you.
RacingQueen: Hence the singleness slowly crushing me into spinster hell.
That has me laughing. Tossing down my phone, I glance over to my half-packed duffel bag.
I really should be getting ready for my trip. Brent is going to be here tomorrow to pick up the horses since I have to be down at the permit office in the morning.
It’ll be nice to get away and just chase calves around a pen for a few days.
Hell, I might have to find my way down to one of the western bars in Pendleton to see if I can find someone to keep me warm in my camper while I’m there.
All this talking and reading about sex is fueling a need in me I’ve been trying to keep tamped down.
If only I knew where RQ was.
Nah. She’s going through a rough patch, so this might just be her way of blowing off steam.
Who knows, she might have twenty other people she chats with, giving them each a different story.
