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swole
Well-known member
Would you wind for me? Slow wind for me...
I want to lay on the bed and watch you enter the dimly light room, slowly stripping out of your nitewear at the foot of the bed, staring into my eyes, slowly climbing over me, resting your warmth on my lap, as I start kissing your lips...
Everyday I saw you in class. And everyday you sat in front of me. I always wondered what color panties you wear wearing. But you're a classy girl, always making sure they don't show from the back before sitting down. I would get lost in my daydreams, picturing us in a private room, warm, moist lips touching, nonverbal exchanges of passion, my hands running through your healthy blonde hair, right after you pulled the pin and it fell toward your shoulders, freshly scented with the essence of your latest shampoo. I would notice the simple silver jewelry accenting your ears and wrist. I pictured it on my nightstand. Your outifts always warm and inviting; jeans and a shirt, sometimes layered. I pictured them draped over my black leather desk chair. Your ears begged for me to kiss them, gently, while I whispered my fantasies into them. The few times our eyes connected my body froze and felt your warm skin next to mine, hands clutching the arm muscle I worked so hard to build. Your mouth closed for a moment as you swallowed an aprehensive thought, which was quickly dismissed with a light smile as your eyes closed from the teasing pleasure my hand gave your inner thighs. A calm rolled over your body as you allowed the bed to fully support your weight. You sunk into the mattress and prompted me continue...
But here I am, still wondering if you notice me, softly gazing at you while entering the room. I remember asking you a question by using your first name. You seemed happily suprised that I did, in fact, know you by name. Your answer was our last verbal exchange to date. The semester is almost over, and here I am still planning another way to get your attention.
I want to lay on the bed and watch you enter the dimly light room, slowly stripping out of your nitewear at the foot of the bed, staring into my eyes, slowly climbing over me, resting your warmth on my lap, as I start kissing your lips...
Everyday I saw you in class. And everyday you sat in front of me. I always wondered what color panties you wear wearing. But you're a classy girl, always making sure they don't show from the back before sitting down. I would get lost in my daydreams, picturing us in a private room, warm, moist lips touching, nonverbal exchanges of passion, my hands running through your healthy blonde hair, right after you pulled the pin and it fell toward your shoulders, freshly scented with the essence of your latest shampoo. I would notice the simple silver jewelry accenting your ears and wrist. I pictured it on my nightstand. Your outifts always warm and inviting; jeans and a shirt, sometimes layered. I pictured them draped over my black leather desk chair. Your ears begged for me to kiss them, gently, while I whispered my fantasies into them. The few times our eyes connected my body froze and felt your warm skin next to mine, hands clutching the arm muscle I worked so hard to build. Your mouth closed for a moment as you swallowed an aprehensive thought, which was quickly dismissed with a light smile as your eyes closed from the teasing pleasure my hand gave your inner thighs. A calm rolled over your body as you allowed the bed to fully support your weight. You sunk into the mattress and prompted me continue...
But here I am, still wondering if you notice me, softly gazing at you while entering the room. I remember asking you a question by using your first name. You seemed happily suprised that I did, in fact, know you by name. Your answer was our last verbal exchange to date. The semester is almost over, and here I am still planning another way to get your attention.
