These past few weeks were so draining for me mentally and emotionally to the point that my sex drive completely left me. I wanted my old horny self back so much because I knew I always worked and functioned better when I could blow off some steam every night. But sex was so far from my mind that even thinking about Jacob couldn’t stoke my flames.
That is, not until I started imagining 40-year-old Jacob telling me to sit on his lap while he listened to me rant about what happened.
He would be listening to me patiently, cracking up jokes every now and then to lighten my mood. I wouldn’t notice his hand on my knee that was slowly creeping up underneath my skirt because I was still in the middle of ranting. Then, he would give me one of his subtle smiles, gaze gentle but so rapt, and those would be enough for me to feel the stirrings of arousal.
It would shock me for a moment because it was SO long since I felt any kind of sexual arousal, that it would feel like reaching orgasm in itself. By this time, his too-warm and too-big hand would be grasping my inner thigh. He’d tease me through my underwear, his fingers circling and lightly tapping on my clit, then they’d slide back and forth against the length of the cloth, the subtle hint of his nail scratching against it making the sensation all the more intense. I would come not long after, surprising both of us, but what can you expect when I’ve been deprived for so long?
Jacob’s face would turn smug. He’d say, “It’s been two weeks. Don’t you come an average of thrice per night? We should make up for lost time” with that trademark smirk. My God, he would look so much more devilish (and so handsome!) than his younger self I’d tear his clothes off and feast on him right then and there!
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