Don't Run: A Halloween Short

by Shon

I haven’t unblocked my ex Desmond since last Christmas. And honestly, that has to count for something. Ten months without the best—and most toxic—dick of my life.

One thing I’ve always been is a greedy little slut in need of a good fuck.

“I want you to run from me. The only rule is that when I catch you, I get to give you an orgasm for every minute I spent looking for you.”

I watched from the other side of the camera and damn near came in my pants when she set up her little machine to fuck herself right after.

She’s the best executive assistant I’ve ever had, and I promised myself I wouldn’t fuck that up.

I knew it got damnit.

She might get different dick, but it’ll never be better dick. And I know that for a fact.

She walks in and the first thing I notice are the faint marks around her neck that I didn’t pick up on camera. The scarf around her neck is doing a piss poor job of hiding them and a territorial tug pulls in my chest. I trace them with my eyes like I’m following a roadmap of the way I owned her. It’s the only proof I have and a souvenir I’ll savor long after they fade.