Let that moment linger. You’ll want to remember this feeling later.
When you’re on the train, heading to work, coffee just kicking in, looking out the empty window, but seeing only his cock and feeling his head glide past your lips.
When you walk through the city, earbuds in, listening to the music of last night, your moans and sucks, his urgent affirmations of what a good little slut you are for him.
When you are in your third hour of meetings, the conference room looking less like a place for the death of ideas, but much better as a surface for him to lay you on, spread your legs, devour you, until he decides he’s hungry for more, and you fuck on the table until you can’t remember your own name.
Remember that feeling. Wear it all day. Then go home and make new ones.