Filed under: Sex
i stripped the minute the visitor in our home left. my body had dried sweat from my run and my clothes were still damp and cold as they fell to the tile. i ached, i was exhausted and i couldn’t form any thoughts besides “bed”.
we started discussing religion when i laid in my panties on the fuck bed. i pulled my arms up over my head and beneath the pillow. he sat at the edge gliding his hands over my soft flesh. i closed my eyes as our conversation was growing deeper and the clock kept ticking. his hand ran around my breasts, my nipples, flowing down my stomach to my thighs. fingers traced the black fabric and traveled back up and down again.
i never lost sight of the words we were exchanging and yet at moments i felt him. it was the one time when i was not caught up in one act more then the other. there was a pleasant balance and i savored his touches while letting our voices fill the air.
we had to pull ourselves apart with great effort because we hadn’t eaten. i wanted that moment to last longer. mostly i love how my near nakedness draws him in like honey or in my case sweet poison, how second nature it is for him to touch my flesh when it is exposed to him.
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