(dedicated to @TrailMixx,thank you hun, for being here from the beginning, I appreciate your votes and comments :)
L:.
I never found out his name after that night.
But that didn't mean I stopped looking. It had been two days since that day and I was already beggining to crave his touch.
I wanted his lips on me. I wanted his hands to trace my body, to run his fingertips along every edge and curve.
I wanted to repeat that night.
Cringing, I rested my head against the hard surface of the table. I was starting to sound like a horny, sex-deprived woman.
I was never one to be fascinated by sex. I didn't go out looking for a hook up every weekend and I almost certainly had never felt like I needed it more than the oxygen my lungs drank in to let me breathe.
So why was this stranger making me feel things, want things that I had never longed for before.
I was no stranger to sex either. I've had a few boyfriends in the past but the sex was always mediocre. Pleasant at best. It was always the anticipation, the wait, that had me excited.
But that never lasted.
Shaking my head again, I chewed onto my pencil, trying to find something worth writing. I couldn't let this interfere with my work.
I had to forget about him.
And that, I would do.
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