We don’t have much time and so you pull me out and drop to your knees, taking my cock into your hand. In a fitted rage you begin pumping my cock, alternately staring into my eyes and waiting for me to erupt. Your free hand slides around my wet balls, underneath and then up to my nipples.Not five seconds later and I feel the swirling heat of all this surging through me. From the top of my head it comes, rushing into my gut and then with my quiet vocalization you take my cock in your mouth where I explode and you graciously take all of my juices, swallowing me nearly whole.In this fantasy, I do not remember getting myself back together, or what is said just before we walk back down the stairs. But laying in my solitary bed miles and lifetimes away from this imagined possibility, with my juices sprayed on my stomach, I think about how my thirst is still unquenched. And how I want to swallow you whole, tasting every naughty molecule of your sex as you did mine. In that hallway of fantasy.And as I drift off to sleep, I fall back to the reality of this quiet room. And the darkened night. And I think about how solitary and alone I was walking into your door for that first time. And in the same kind of reverse, I think about how I walked out of it: Alone and with the sound of your summer night’s party swirling up and into the night like a great din
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