Member-only story
100 Word Microfiction
Morning Glory
Another dream, another day
You put a hand on my thigh. Delayed, I place mine on yours.
We keep watching the stage. The dancers are moving intimately, their grace enticing.
Your hand burns through my jeans. Ever closer to my simmering desire. Kindling a fire. It’s so unreal. I don’t even know your name. I could call you Samira, or Esther, or Precious. I call it impossible.
Not here, not now. O please, right here, right now.
I wake up in the morning’s glory.
I wank under the shower, wishing for the delight of your hands. The flush of cum seeping through your fingers.
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