Got stood up last night. Not by a client—that would be a relief—but by a guy I was actually excited about. Met him at that bar downtown, chemistry was instant. We were all over each other in the booth, his hand creeping up my thigh, fingers so close I could feel the heat through my panties. He whispered exactly what he wanted to do to my cunt later and I believed him.

Then nothing. Ghosted. No text, no explanation.

Here's the thing though: I was already soaked and wound tight when I got home. So I lay there, replaying his hands on my tits, his voice in my ear, and fucked myself thinking about what should have happened. Came so hard imagining his cock stretching me out exactly how he promised.

His loss. I still got mine.