Author's Note: Just some slightly dirty musing on CB.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Slight smut.
Sometimes, when he lays alone, his deepest fantasy isn't just her, but her thinking of him. He'd imagine her moving her soft hands up her thigh and wishing they were his more calloused ones. He knows that it's selfish, but he never claimed to be anything else.
What he doesn't know is how right he is. That she spends her nights thinking of him, even if it isn't in that way. She likes to think how cold and alone he must be without her. Well, not alone, she can't fool herself that much. He always does find a body to occupy his bed. Yet, deep in her heart she knew he was both, and it hurt, and she hated him for that.
But on the nights when it was… that way, and she wished for rough kiss/touch/fuck, she hated him enough to scream. Part of her wanted to barge in on him and yell and throw things and… /oh, how'd he'd kiss along her neck and lay her down and whisper sweet everything, oh, oh/
(give in, give in, give in)
NEVER.
Yes, she hates him those nights when she yearns for his calloused fingers, thinking of him, thinking of her, thinking of him.
Author's Note: Yay masturbation! So, I am a HORRIBLE typer, I still hunt and peck sometimes, and something a bit interesting happened when I typed that first sentence. I don't know what I actually typed, but where it says "deepest" auto-correct made it "creepiest". Touche, auto-correct, touche.
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