"If Peter were the last man on Earth, I'd build myself a rocket".
She mulled over her sentence, smirking as filthy thoughts popped into her mind. Without much work to do these days, humour had it's place.
If Peter was the last man on earth, it wouldn't out of space she'd be rocketing to. It'd be straight onto his hard cock. Oh the thought. It filled her mind with thoughts that she really hadn't intended to resist.. but why not tonight eh?
Biting her lips, she reminisced over past times, remember the best things they'd done. She remembered the time she'd surprised him, one lunchtime when they both worked at the factory. Wearing just a long camel coat, she'd perched on the desk, giving him the most joyous fright when he'd closed the door to their office, turned round and seen her propped against the desk, coat open, her body on full display, legged splayed, breast glistening. Then they'd fucked hard and fast on the desk. Just like that. She missed it. Their spontaneity. She'd loved Nick, moved on from Peter for a while, but he hadn't come close in the bedroom department. No man ever would. Not with their electric spark.
'Rocket'. The word kept rolling off her tongue and then even more jovial, yet deliciously sexy thoughts erupted in her head. She closed her eyes, given it had been a year or so since she'd last had sex, she owed herself a bit of self love.
Lying back on the bed, letting her hand toy with the hem of her knickers, she visualised Peter, all man, naked, his body toned, his cock hard. Oh she missed the sight of his birthday suit. Slipping beneath the fabric, her fingers moved into her hot folds, and she bit her lip as she fantasised, imagining the feel, the taste of his cock in her mouth. Hot, hard and swollen. She let out of a faint moan, imaging the feel of his cum rocketing down her throat.
She let out a dirty laugh, she didn't need to imagine, Toyah could never give him what could. It didn't make her jealous, she just felt pity that Peter had to put up with that wet old rag. Oh how she bet he still lust over her. She'd make sure, in her dying days that he regretted what he'd done. She'd make sure every time he fucked Toyah, he imagined her, heard her, tasted her. She would manipulate him till he was on his knees, begging her to let him have a taste of what he'd lost.
Sinking her fingers inside herself, she let out a smug laugh as she replayed a memory, Peter gripping her arse as she bounced up and down on his cock. She remembered the sheer bliss in his eyes, the intensity as he stared into her eyes, feeling every inch of her tightness around his throbbing member. His teeth written, lips pursed as he desperately tried to hold himself back from releasing.
She remembered those hot, humid nights in LA, in swanky hotels, where they fucked on the balconies, their muggy air only intensifying their lust. She remembered the day they'd done nothing but, fuck. Oh those were the days.
She let out a cry as she felt herself let go, rocketing into oblivion.
She'd build a rocket alright. And wouldn't he want to ride it with her.