Member-only story
Fuck Me At A Graffiti Park
What will you do when you catch me?
The dive bar hums with music and conversations. My shorts barely cover my ass with dark denim. My hair drapes over my neck and past my shoulders. I check my phone to see if he’s here yet. My hands grip the long, polished pool stick in my right hand. I play with the one singular, white ball. I keep sinking it within the right corner and grin as I make my shot.
I see him outside through the window. His long strides eat up the pavement with an efficiency. Our eyes meet with that tell-tale smile blooming on our lips. His beard is gone and his lion’s mane of hair has been eradicated. I wave to him as he beams at me through the window. My feet trot over to the wooden door entrance. He opens the door and climbs up the concrete stairs. When he enters the open space I vault toward his form.
Our arms wrap around each other like puzzle pieces meant to fit perfectly together. I let out a sigh into his shoulder. My nose buries into his shirt. I bite the cotton fabric of his T-shirt. He laughs at my teeth scraping and grabbing the fabric. We part from each other only for me to return back to his embrace and squeeze hard.
“I thought I was at the wrong bar at first when you weren’t here,” I admit.
