Indulging in Fantasy

Just a fantasy. Nothing more or less.

He was sexy. There was no denying that. He also scared me. I remember the flash of wonder, "What would it be like?"

I didn't want to get physical. The thought didn't cross my mind. All I wondered is What would it be like to to taste those lips?

I see it in my mind. We're in a tete a tete and I lean in close, touch my moth to a cheek perhaps, maybe lips. If I am lucky there will be lips.

Would he be surprised? Then he'd recover, pull me close, kiss me back. Warm strong lips.

Could I acquire a new taste for beer in the depths of his mouth?

I swoon, visibly I fear, at the thought of tangling tongues. I have to walk away, to regain control.

His hands look capable. If I let myself I could imagine them all over my body. I could weave a fantasy where they elicit delighted gasps and waves of pleasure.

But, those thoughts lead down a dark path. Hiding away in the dark, to do what I swore I didn't want to do.

I don't want to even really share a kiss. It's enough to imagine, to fantasize. It's fun to dream what could be without indulging one bit in setting forth into reality.
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