He grips my cock, and I have to look. Need to see it. And, fuck. Those fingers wrapped around me like that, I knew they’d look good, but god. This is better than I’d imagined. I wish I could take a picture, keep it forever. I want to remember it exactly like this. I want to be able to pull this image out and look at it when he’s done with me, no longer willing to touch me. Mostly, I want him to just never be done with me. To always want to touch me. To flash his horribly adorable dimples at me every chance he can. I want… I just want.
