Angels & Demons

I met Aphrodite and Succubus today.

Aphrodite came in the form of a docile yet confident young lady, somewhat like morning sunshine.

She has the right curves and she flaunts them, but she does so subtly in her flowing pinafore.

Her looks grows on you. She made sure that she melted my heart with her puppy-dog eyes, but I was reduced to dust whenever she smiles and chuckles.

She isn’t someone who I’d fuck; I wouldn’t even dare to mentally undress her. She’s so delicate that if I’d stick my dick inside her, she’ll break into million pieces of starlight.

Succubus was a different story.

She grins, playing with her silky hair, baiting you to eternal hell.

Forget Pamela-esque breasts and Shakirian hips; that’s old-school. Her body-fitting dress and her never-ending legs can condemn crusades, let alone me.

I froze as she bent forward to discard some waste paper into my bin, but I was relieved that I was able to maintain my composure and the rigidity of my dick. She stood up, beaming, and walked away from my desk.

Then she had to drop her pen.

That was when I almost burst into flames, with thoughts of me compelling her with the power of my dick.

Could Have, Should Have

I was reading Serena's post about a missed opportunity and I recalled a few blunders of my own.

On one occasion, during a good friend's wedding, I met up with a former classmate. I could have used a pseudonym, but let's call her Diana.

Diana is rather chubby who has come across as a cute girl. No one will think of her as sexy or sensual.

Anyway, back to the wedding. I was one of the groomsmen, by the way, and it's just so that Diana was seated beside me.

Now, as a groomsman, it was my job to leave the table from time to time to either attend to the wedding guests or to rescue the groom and his bride from any potential saboteurs. And Diana will always ensure that I'd never miss a dish.

Very sweet, that girl.

Then, I noticed that she would stroke my thighs everytime I was seated. She would slide her fingers along my inner thigh and appear nonchalant about it.

It was a huge turn-on for me. Had she touched my crotch, I would have jumped her there and then.

The problem was, I did not reciprocate; I was afraid she might take offense.

At the end of the night, I followed up with an sms, teasing her that I would love another thigh massage from her. She was amused and added that our former tutor, who was seated beside her, had his hands all over her the whole night.

Then it hit me.

If I had made a move on her, the night would have ended differently. I could be savoring every patch of her skin and her, every thrust of mine. And everytime I thought of this, I would sigh,

"Stupid, stupid Jack!"