y head, low and sultry, *"He knew exactly how to make a woman feel good."* The way she'd said it-like it was a secret she couldn'

el like? To be touched by someone who knew exactly what I needed

y bag onto the couch, I kicked off my shoes and stood in the dimly lit living

sitated. Was I really considering this? Signing up for some website

esires-made my pulse quicken. My nipples tightened beneath my shirt, and I

rning for something more. Tired of touching myself in the dark

and unlocked my phone. My heart thumped loudly in my che

ng a sleek black-and-gold

Match - Where Fanta

led the background, fingers laced together in a way that was

esires? Fill out the form

hovering over the screen. I

estion appea

gs you to D

ns fo

ng new ex

physical c

t of specifi

ption, and the next q

deepest desire i

ty apartment as if someone might see me typing.

I want his mouth on my skin, his teeth grazing my neck, his tongue tracing every curve until I'm trembling. I want to feel him inside me, filling me completely, until I forge

o preferences, boundaries, and fantasies I'd barely admitted to anyone. My b

joy being d

es

to feel out

es

your ideal

s trembling. Then, slo

st raw, primal desire. I want to be claimed, filled until there's nothing left but heat and chaos,

ubmit, my chest heaving. The screen blinked, processing my response. For a moment, I felt exposed, as if I'd strip

like an eternity, a con

r profile. Our system is searc

uldn't stop now. My hand drifted to my thigh, fingers tracing idle patterns o

cation p

found a

hed as I opene

hing real. Something raw. I'm here to make sure

ne. The message was sign

D.

g. His words were simple, but they carri

rve ending alight with anticipation. I bit my lip, my fingers

ld overthink

Ye

or a moment, and then

rl. Let's