Preoccupied

Every once in a while, a thought nestles itself into your brain. You can’t shake it, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes it’s a song that you hear when everything is quiet, sometimes it’s an old memory that you replay over and over, and sometimes it’s a fantasy that you run through whenever you are alone. Your fantasy is LONG, and THICK, and PULSING, and THROBBING. Your fantasy is in your tastebuds. All you can seem to think about, when the world stands still, is sucking a huge cock.