I’m tired of waiting for him to do anything to me, no matter how badly I want him to. No matter how turned on I am. I don’t think he even realizes it anymore. I spend a lot of time online listening to audio porn, dripping wet, wishing I wasn’t alone. Wishing I didn’t need to reach down and touch myself. Feel how swollen my clit is, feel how ready I am for his cock. Because I don’t want anyone else, really. I just want him. Sex used to be amazing. He used to love to go down on me and devour me. Make me moan. Make me scream. Now, it’s anonymous voices on the other end of my headphones. Voices that make me throb and make me so hot that it’s hard to breathe. Make me twitch when I run my hand down between my thighs, under the waist band of my pants, into my panties, until I reach my clit and then dip my fingers in between my lips where they get so, so wet and so slick. It feels so much better when my fingers are drenched when I swirl them around my clit, eliciting little moans and gasps.. “Ugh, cause they want me to go out with you. Apparently you’re their better pick. I try to explain that Brent is so much hotter, but they don’t get it.”“You little bitch,” I joked.“Ha-ha, see you in a little.” I shook my head and hung up, heading for the exit. I walked out care free, without a worry, until I realized I left my batting gloves on the bench I had claimed my own before showing. “Shit!” I announced to myself, turning around to head back. I squinted my eyes when I was nearly fifty feet away. I saw someone entering the lockers, but couldn’t make out who it was. I hurried my footsteps, hoping it wasn’t a thief scavenging for left over equipment. When my feet slowed in pace and I entered I heard an odd sound. It was a grunt, a session of groans that made my legs dance with nervous jolts. I continued to walk forward though. I cornered the hallway searching for my gloves and the source of moaning, when I suddenly stopped. I dropped my book bag and my jaw followed. It was Mitch,.
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