Punk Louis Tomlinson Dirty Imagine

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He kept eyeing me up and down. Finally taking me in, scanning over my body like I was some sort of prey and he was the hunter. His eyes started to darken as he saw me up on the counter, I reached out my hands and tugged him closer to me, ready to have my lips on his, his lip ring cool against my lips. Just as our lips were about to touch, I wrapped my legs around his back just above his bum and pulled him closer. His hands found my sides and rubbed at the hem of my shirt as he finally kissed me and our tongues worked together like we had never separated from the last time he was here to visit.


I’d forgotten of his gracious tongue ring. How could I forget that? The first time he went down on me it was pure bliss. He knows exactly how to move his tongue to get me right to the edge.

I cut him off before we could get any deeper in the kiss, my hands still lying at the nape of his neck.

“I think we might burn the spaghetti again..”

“I think..” his lips attaching with mine for a short kiss before he continued, “I think I’m hungry for something else”

It was hot. I was hot and I knew it wasn’t from the steam coming off of the boiling spaghetti noodles.

He bent down, kissing my mound that was still covered by my leggings and only by my leggings. When he found out that was the only thing separating him from what he craved most, I had never heard him growl so loud. It was like it set a new fire under him.

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