Starfucker

This was originally posted on Monday, October 11th over at another blog. The blog owner decided to post it as if he, himself, had written it. I enjoyed that because I like to fuck with people. He likes to fuck with people. What can I say? I told you people something was wrong with me. And now for your reading pleasure, Starfucker as written by Lola.


STARFUCKER


It started innocently enough. She admired his work. He, like any man, was flattered. Their contact was limited and sporadic enough that there was never any chance of it developing into something. She had a great life outside of her contact with him. Unlike most women, she wasn't looking for it to develop.

A barbed comment here. A shared laugh there. One day there was a spark or maybe she just imagined it. She flirted shamelessly and he flirted back. But he flirts with all the girls. Inevitably, the talk turned to sex. She would use the word fuck just for attention. He would ask seemingly innocent questions that had a sexual undertone. She would answer in a suggestive way. It was fun.

Sometimes when she smiled, her tongue just peeked through her teeth. An old habit that started when she was very young. A few men and too many boys to count had commented on it. She wondered if he thought about her tongue at times. She knew what she could do with that tongue. Was well versed in all the ways it was pleasing. Knew the value of looking up at a man with those big, brown eyes of hers while she pleased him. She wanted to share these things with him. She knew she couldn't.

This man seemed to possess everything that was needed to seduce her. He was extremely intelligent. He made her laugh. If a man could make her laugh and better yet make her think, he had won most of the battle of getting her into bed. She thought about kissing him. What it would be like to have his mouth on hers. Teasing her. Biting her. Sucking on her bottom lip. She loved kissing. Could do it for hours. She sensed he was the same way.

At times, she entertained fantasies of them getting together for a day. A day filled with exchanging ideas, laughter and hours of kissing. Laughing, they would fall into bed together and explore each others bodies until they were exhausted. She thought about this happening, yet knew that it wouldn't.

It was all fiction. They were fiction. Two people who didn't truly exist outside of their brief interactions. She knew it. He had created it. For a few brief moments whenever they were together he had turned her into the one thing she swore she wasn't. A starfucker. But when he made her laugh, she didn't mind it so much