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Subject: A moment...

Author:
Jessie

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Date Posted: 00:26:24 11/11/04 Thu

We're sitting across from one another. I can feel the weight of her desk inbetween us, even as I lean over it, drawing my body closer to hers. She responds by doing the same. She says she has something to tell me, and I know what it is even before she can get the words out. I know that is what she is going to say, but I also know that isn't what is creating that weight between us--- that tension in the air that is drawing us both closer together and further apart. Perhaps it is that friction of being pulled in two directions at once that is causing my pussy to ignite. I can feel her feel it too. I can see it in the way her chest is rising and in the way she absentmindedly brings her finger to her lips. They are full and parted, a deep shade of crimson blush. I want to lean further over her desk and drink from them, but I don't. I know she wants me to, but I also know I'm not supposed to. Not that that alone has ever stopped me before. But there's something powerful in the act of restraining--- just long enough. The anticipation, the longing, the wondering--- all unspoken, but felt firmly at the core of my pussy. I can feel the extent of my control over her contractions, even when we pretend that they aren't happening.

I wrote something about her the other day, changing the name and hair color and nothing more, and I let a friend of hers read it. He complimented what he called "my gift" of being able to delve into the mind of a fictionalized character, making her so believable that he could feel her. I only smiled. Do any fiction writers actually write fiction?

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Replies:

Subject	Author	Date
beatiful	Suz	14:42:04 11/11/04 Thu

mmmm---more	k	21:57:20 11/11/04 Thu