The Animal In Me

We were already kissing at the top of the stairs.

I had wanted to be the gentleman, sending her home after the movies and all, but her being in her tiny shorts has roused the animal in me.

Her supple lips and playful tongue did not succeed in taming me, as I was soon attracted to her slender neck. I chewed gently, feeling for her pulse with my lips, constantly reminding myself that tearing at her jugular vein simply do not work.

She had one palm on my shoulders and the other on my hips, not knowing whether she should stop me in my tracks or lure me to the feasting site.

We heaved against the still air and knew what was going to happen next.

She grabbed my wrists as I tore through her top like how a leopard would tear through the African plains with dinner in its sight. I was sure I was careful with her bra though.

Within seconds, she was topless. The sight of her breasts further incited the primitive passions within me. She pushed her palm against my forehead as I wrapped one arm around her waist, preventing her escape. She reluctantly grabbed my other arm as it tugged at her shorts. Bite marks, wet trails, swollen nipples and a lone pair of tiny shorts laid in the wake of this frenzy, the result of my hard sucking and soft gnawing.

I viciously pulled at her panties while she put up a futile struggle. Predictably, she quickly gave in and I peeled her panties away like a savage.

I gorged on her pussy, indulging in that raw, sweet scent of hers. Then, I stood up, lifted her left leg as she limped on her other foot, still yet to recover from my oral rampage.

And I pushed my length into her.

She gasped and shuddered, surprised by how willing her pussy was. She hung onto me and unleashed a vocal mix of hisses, purrs and growls into my ear as I grinded and pumped.

Within minutes, a tinge in my gut quickly evolved into a lust for release. I grabbed her butt closer to me and gave a final thrust, sealing her fate with a stinging gush of crème de la crème.

Think Different

Working in a company where 95% of its workforce is made up of women is not fun and not funny. It’s like getting into a relationship with each and everyone of them when most of them are already attached or married.

(Don’t tell me that there are attached girls who fuck around. What are the chances of that? The odds of hitting on a Victoria Secret fan out of the Orchard crowd are even higher.)

But amidst all the low cuts and short skirts, I’ve made a couple of good friends. So, we’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, last year, after being inspired by The Bucket List, Yes Man and the Apple Computer slogan, I decided that I should engage in a new activity once in a while.

I’ve taken up diving, gone on a solo trip to Vietnam, quitted my 4-year job (not the current one), got drunk in one of the Fullerton Suites, became a groomsman, participated in marathons, jogged in the vicinity of the Institute of Mental Health, ambushed a Peeping Tom.

What’s next?

Skydiving? Gate-crash a party?

Bed a MILF?