amorie

AMORIE ── padres fan, occasional mets fan

give me your ideas, thoughts, anything, i’ll read it all.

🦈 : padres, mets, knicks, mlb, nba (18+ blog)

but then he finds himself doing things he’d never do. losing track of time at clubs, getting the tab to hit well over a thousand, ordering bottles for any girl that asked, even keeping some of their numbers to later fly them out to games.

he’s sleeping with anyone that crosses his path. with a girl who wanted to bring a friend along and who is he to deny. telling her to bring her around and he’ll have them both begging for more rounds. he’d come back to her once in a while bc in his words, they had the same passion: chasing money. they both also knew that it was never anything serious, just two people playing with each other.

he’d find himself at two, three, different bars a night, trying anything to get you out his mind. but it’s hard when he seeing you in other girls. one who had your same outfit on, but couldn’t wear it as good as you do. taking in her scent but it’s not the same as yours. connecting skin to skin at his place but she doesn’t feel nearly as good as you do.

he’ll get random flashbacks to how you two use to be. to how you use to ask him to fuck you in the backseat with his hand wrapped around your neck.

shaking his head trying to erase the memories, wishing there was a time machine somewhere to help erase your taste. he hope’s you are out there somewhere feeling the same type of lost he feels.

he can’t help but think about how hard he tried for you— how he gave you his best. yes, he admits, there was obviously room for improvement, but as hard as he tried you just didn’t give him the time to.

mvp incoming

dragging him to the couch, straddling his lap to hold him closer. showering him with kisses, telling him how proud you are of him— praising him for how good he’s been playing.

his hands rest on your hips as you press quick pecks on his lips from time to time. your arms wrapped around his neck, listening closely as he talks about his day.

his hands start roaming, rubbing them up and down your thighs listening to you talk now. rolling your hips against him, telling him about how good he looked out there— how you’ve been waiting for him to get home.

kissing all over his neck, whispering to him how all you want is to make him feel good after his game. he’s groaning back in response, letting you take his clothes off.

his hands are all over you, trying to grab onto anything as you bounce on him. your fucking the noises out of him, riding him faster now. you lean your head down to kiss him, making him moan into your mouth from the added connection.

he’s so close when you get up, making him whine at the loss of your warmth. you want to taste him, you need nothing more than to have him in your mouth.

going down quickly, taking him in your mouth— feeling every vein against your tongue. it wasn’t long before he finished in your mouth. he’s throwing his head back, letting out deep groans as you finish licking him up.

you practically count down the days—waiting for him to ask you to help him take his braids out. the braids are something you’ve loved ever since he started getting them.

you just can’t help but miss the way his curls feel on your thighs when he’s exploring your folds. cant help but miss the way his hair feels in your hands, pushing him down to show him where you need him most.

you miss the way he’d moan into your cunt when you slightly pull on his hair. crying out his name from the added sensation.