Perhaps it was sheer loneliness, perhaps an inclination toward adventure, or simple curiosity, o just had to meet new people, so I clicked on his photo. My curiosity was captain and conveyed me to luck when I disembarked on some really hunky photos of him.
His page on Instagram was awash with steamy shirtless photos of himself either working out at the gym or coming out of the pool or of him at the beach so that I imagined he sought every chance to expose that tight body of his and drive the women crazy with lust. It was not common for me to find a man with such perfect physique with so ravishingly fine a face on top of it. I involuntarily began watering at the mouth and almost fell in a swoon after seeing a few of these pictures, almost out of breath. I was hot.
For more than two weeks after luckily landing my funky hunk on my explore page, I took profound pains to not follow him. But a couple times a day, something that quickly became a ritual with me, I would whip out my phone, and dine my hungry eyes on photos of him. I’d smack my lips and dream of running rubbing down his metallic chest. I gazed yawningly at his v-line and bit my nether lip with desire, hungry for whatever meat lurked down the end. My hunger for him was eating me up limb by limb every passing day.
My pussy raged beneath me for his hotness, eager to devour him whole up. Sometimes, I fancied I caught sight of his hard nipples by flicking my tongue over them. I had grown desperately helpless.
One cold rainy night, lying in bed in nothing but my thong, I buckled under the pressure to feed my wild desire for my secret crush with what little I knew best.
I chose one of my favourite photos of my crush on his page. In this one photo of my choice, he lay in bed, having on nothing but a pair of tight black shorts. He ravished the way he looked in it. But this was common work with him.
The light in the room was rather dim but bright enough to reveal the outline of his chest to my groping eyes, down to his waist. I could easily catch the hint of the hair starting from his belly button descending into his tight shorts.
My crush’s pretty face had been rudely cut off from the photo, which partly broke my heart, but I made do with his seemingly diamond-hard nipples and his abs which looked like tires of trailers on each side him. Goodness, the thought of merely stroking on his god-like body gave me the shivers the cold night was incapable of. Every sinew in my body seemed to vibrate with need.
I had my eyes closed tightly as I set out rubbing my breasts with one hand. I imagined of my hunk all hands on me. I imagined of him kissing on my neck and whispering inside my ear what a sexy thing he thought of me. I dreamed him lavishing kisses and sweet words on me on his way down from my neck to my nipples. As these wild thoughts feasted on my brain, I stroked my already hardening nipples to nourish the feast better.
I fondled both my nipples harder until they were so hard, they pierced into the air and wounded it. I think I saw the air bleed at some point. I also think I heard myself moan something into the dull ear of the empty room.
I imagined so strongly my hunk touched me just where I liked that I could about feel him in the room with me, hard to the touch. With one hand, I strayed down my belly into the inside of my thighs. By this time, the whole air if the room was choking on the juice that flowed from my pussy.
Involuntarily catching a whiff of my own arousal further aroused me. I dispensed with my thong and began stroking my inner thighs gently to ready my pussy. I fancied my hunk stroking me just there, soaking myself in the illusion that it was his hands, not mine, doing the work around my pussy.
I fancied him dribbling at the mouth over my pussy and what his junk would do to my fuckhole when I spread my legs wide open before him, rendering it all up to him..
With the other hand stroking my nipple, I slowly wandered down to my dripping pussy. I massaged my clit for a little, then slid my middle finger right into the wetness.
Soon as I entered my hole with my finger, it was drenched in so much juice that it became slippery in no time at all and rubbed the outside of my cunt with the juice my finger had scooped from my honeypot.
I squirmed in my bed as I fondled my nipples and suppressed my moans as I went. I yearned for my hunky crush terribly. I imagined him breezing into the room wielding his cock in hand tantalizingly, making me kneel and beg for it.
I dreamed him spreading my legs wide apart and invading me rocking my every inch of my body so. In the haze of this dream, I slid two fingers into my wetness and began fucking myself urgently. My back arched in response while my head sunk back into the soft pillow. I closed my eyes savouring the pleasure as I fucked myself hard and salved my aching need.
In no time, I could hear long-suppressed moans escaping my lips: “Oh you gonna make me cum all around you! I’m gonna cum. Fuck me harder! Harder!” I screamed my orders to no one but a hunk that wasn’t there. I felt the waves riding all across my body and knew an explosion was close at hand. I felt my toes curl and my legs trembled under the battery of the pleasure of my self-fucking. I slid a third finger in, gave myself one last, deep finger-thrust as I shot my hand full of squirt and made a mess of my bed with a flood of cum.
As I lay there panting out of breath, I entertained a gut feeling I had found my next lay. Good old Time would shove my crush’s cock in my mouth soon enough, I smiled thinking, as I whipped out my phone from my side and tapped on the ‘follow’ button of his hot Instagram page.
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