Thoughts While Jerking Off (m/memory of f) | 2016

Lights low. Neutral Milk Hotel blaring in the back. Lying on his back, a pair of her dirty leopard print panties on his face. Last night this was her on his face. Today she is gone. Moved on. Thinking of her asshole right there in his eyes, her ass spread by his hands while he ran his tongue along her. He thinks if he had only grabbed the buttplug. She was giving the best head then, so much spit. She even rubbed right below his balls. He imagined fucking her with the buttplug while she was planted on his face sucking his cock. Maybe she would have squirted then. He can smell her in the sticky spots placed across his nose. It's intoxicating. He thinks about doing the laundry. He stops and squeezes his shaft in his hands. Her dripping cunt comes back to mind and he strokes again. He reaches out with his tongue thinking how sweet it would be to drown in her cum. He can taste it now. He imagines the buttplug in her ass, his dick in her mouth, her legs shaking as she gushes cum into his mouth and onto his face. He cums, into her mouth, onto his chest. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. "Two headed boy, she's all you could need, she will feed you tomatoes and radio wire, and retire to sheets safe and clean. But don't hate her when she gets up to leave." The crackle of the record, relief of orgasm, and feeling of damp panties on his face, leave him wondering if he'll ever see her that way again.