That Girl...

I was fucking tipsy, fucking horny and turned on by the dress she wore (fuck I wanted to rip it off)...thinking about it makes me wanna touch myself in a bad place.

It didn't matter then. Her age never phased me until now, but after the sexual tension in the air and her need for more we kinda grew apart.

We where behind the cottage, in the darkness away from civilisation...alota kinky things could have circled around us in those few minutes of "alone time"...inevitably it did. She sat close to me, I could feel her breathing on my neck, my mind wondered away and she drew her lips closer.

Sometimes I wish that age was never a big deal, but as usual, God hates us all and leaves us to masturbate about our close sexual encounters with those soon to be women.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." I thought, as her tongue made her way to mine. It was great, I wanted more...we where fucking each other without the literal stimulation of a sexual nature. It was the moment, the adrenaline, the endurance that kept me going. To this day I ask how...how she got me in the zone of mental sex (she mind fucked me in other words).

I don't regret what I did, but my wondering mind hopes, that an encounter like that will hold better future endevours and not an awkward moment when we find each other locked up in a dark room.