A single visit to Savannah transformed me from sober and sensible to sappy and sentimental.
In my hobbyist career, I've only ever fantasized about three or four girls, and that was usually where we grew intimate and/or she stopped charging me. For a run-of-the-mill good time, I've tended to enjoy it in the moment but not reminisce or dwell on it.
Lately, I find myself daydreaming about Savannah in a way I haven't since I was a young teen desperately obsessing about what sex, or even breasts, felt like.
Lately, I find myself daydreaming...
"If only I was young, hot and charming enough to sweep Savannah off her feet..."
"If only I was fantastically rich and she agreed to be my kept woman..."
"If only Savannah was into schlubby fatsos..."
"If only we had a week in a villa by the beach with nothing to do but fuck..."
I think my colleagues at work have started to notice that I've been staring into space instead of getting work done.
See her. It's worth it.
In my hobbyist career, I've only ever fantasized about three or four girls, and that was usually where we grew intimate and/or she stopped charging me. For a run-of-the-mill good time, I've tended to enjoy it in the moment but not reminisce or dwell on it.
Lately, I find myself daydreaming about Savannah in a way I haven't since I was a young teen desperately obsessing about what sex, or even breasts, felt like.
Lately, I find myself daydreaming...
"If only I was young, hot and charming enough to sweep Savannah off her feet..."
"If only I was fantastically rich and she agreed to be my kept woman..."
"If only Savannah was into schlubby fatsos..."
"If only we had a week in a villa by the beach with nothing to do but fuck..."
I think my colleagues at work have started to notice that I've been staring into space instead of getting work done.
See her. It's worth it.