The Toblerone Incident

I wanted the Toblerone. The boy was just collateral damage. A means to an end with an erection pushing into my hip, the heavy bar of chocolate held just out of my reach. He kissed me pushed against the thin, echoey walls of my cheap flat and no one has turned me on quite so acutely since.

I wanted the Toblerone. The boy was just collateral damage. Pressed against me on the narrow bed with his hands unsure and time dripping through the skylight above us, I took his wrists and forced his hands roughly against my breasts in the too-small push up bra. He kneaded my flesh and his cock hardened in the small of my back.

I wanted the Toblerone. The boy was just collateral damage. Chocolate fingerprints on my duvet – dry flecks of cocoa across my neck. He bites. His belt. It bites. He shoves his hand inside my knickers; I’m full and flushed and grinding into him but not ready yet, not ready, no.

I wanted the Toblerone. The boy was just collateral damage. The boy was hard and ready for me and my hands were licked clean and thumbs wiping the drips and smudges from his clothes – the denim rough and sweet against my tongue. The salt of him was seductive with dry anger.

I wanted the Toblerone. The boy was just collateral damage. In the palm of my hand until he grew too large, too urgent and I whispered words of encouragement and worked my vulpine tongue around him until his eyes widened. Limp against the pillows, he finally loosened his grip.

I wanted the Toblerone. The boy was just collateral damage. The boy was gone. The Toblerone, still in the fridge.

Masturbation Monday

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