Thinking about all the smutty thoughts w/ Ghostie.
Showed him pics of your Magic Mike venture during your outing because ain't that a bit fun to watch him reply to your whatsapp with the dots popping in and out of screen just to end up with a “enjoying urself?”
You giggled in the shitty hotel bed with your friend in London.
“Pretty much.” You texted back, “Shouted out it was my birthday and a dancer placed my hands on his abs.”
“he gave u a lapdance” He concluded.
He went silent for a few minutes. But your text was read.
“couldve given u one if u asked”
your friend screamed with laughter punching out of her lungs.
“hypothetically” he added.
“Enjoy myself without you.”
Your friend rolled her eyes and stuck our her tongue, “Yeesh. Ew. Who are you and what did you do to my bestie.”
Simon simply replied to your text, “hypothetically jealous, unhypothetically im not there, enjoy urself”
“have fun n be safe, love from MCR”
Your message was read again. But this time went silent without any reply.
You sent him bits and pieces of your travelling，which went around ten days. Occasionally, you texted him, teasingly about the King-sized bed of your hotel, or your lecturer from college (who is also male, around his age), or the fact that he asked you to visit his cats in the afternoon. Which you politely declined, of course. You believe he acts out of politeness because you had showed tremendous interest in his cats, but still, decline.
“He has really cute cats.” You sprawled over the fluffy bed in dim-litted room.
“n i have a rly cute roommate”
“Is this a compliment or strategical wording?”
“neither” he texted “its fact”
You kicked and squealed in the bed, muffling your sounds with a pillow.
“any ideas returning my rmmt to me?”
“How many roommates do you have?! *gasp loudly*”
“1 but shes been getting on my nerves lately”
“WELL SIR that's probably on you.”
“IDK but have you tried kissing her on the forehead and tucking her in for the night?”
“My humble opinion, take it or leave it.”
“...” He probably sighed. “FINE”
“How much for the fine? You know I'm just a student and I'm struggling to make ends meet. I go to the Lidl store for groceries and my bank card never goes abover 90 pounds ...”
“miss you, love” and “wish you were here”
Your heart pounded in your ribcage like it was a newly-found organ.
Which explained this enthusiasm when you get home, a thin layer of sweat coating your body because 28 celcius degrees for Manchester? Damn.
He hoists you up, despite of your complaint - “Haven't washed my hands or anything, Simon! I'm all sweaty!”
“Doesn't care.” He grunts into your ears, kissing you ferociously, “Want to have you.” Stripping off your jeans and your T-shirt under your protest reluctantly because - “No Simon don't put me on the bed these are my OUTSIDE CLOTHES!”
He's nasty like that, closes the edges of his teeth around your silicone pads over your breasts and tosses them to the floor with a sway of his head, receiving an angry glare from you because of it.
He's nasty like that, doesn't bother with your cotton underwear because he licks onto it. Over the small wet patch. Tongue flat, saliva pools. He kisses your mound over the thin piece of fabric, curling his tongue to press down between your slit, rubbing his nose over your clit.
“Simon I haven't shaved I-”
“I don't care if this cunt is bush or bare.” He snarls, hauling your thighs over his shoulders, “Been teasing me of it. Barging into my dreams like you own 'em.”
“Simon - oh shit, fuck - you're fucking - ah - horrible!”
He pulls your underwear off in one swift motion, face buried into your glistening pussy, wiggling his cock out of the boxers. Leaking, pulsing. He wraps your soaked underwear over the angry tip and starts fisting his cock.
He finds your free hand and holds on to it, fingers locked. Tongue plunging deeper. Moaning and grunting. Sucking on your clit.
You come first. He follows shortly after. Trailing sloppy wet kisses on your fluttering cunt.
“Fucking nasty.” You whine, “Savage.”
He pants. Gathering his scattered brain cells back together.
He discards your ruined underwear and said: “Want another go, love. You up for it?”
And you may or may not find your underwear washed by him, personally, later that day. A smirk ghosting his lips. And his hands always finds the waistband of your new underwear. Toying with it and the skin just above it. Which you may or may not notice, was not one of your original collection.
Plus he's shirtless a lot more. But you don't complain the sight.
