You were walking too fast. If I had not been looking at you, we might have totally crashed on top of the other.
Actually, I missed a detail: I was looking at your chest.
My mind is racing. I can't get my eyes off your steamy body with the exceptional attention to the cute nipples on your chest. This is why I hate going out of the house and taking a walk in the afternoon lane; I get to see a lot of naked guys either texting or forming groups of chatter.
He was still texting, oblivious to the fact that we almost had body contact. There was a plethora of inanimate projections of my lustful desire on my subconscious. I had to pull myself together to convince that I'm still awake. I am walking in an opposite direction which is away from him.
Our worlds are parallel, for his straightness will never intersect with my deceiving swagger.
Will I ever catch him again?
*photo from here.
on love and food
2 days ago