Friday, July 31, 2015

Following Lace


You walk... no... You saunter into the room, and I can see it in the way you carry yourself. Each languid step, shifting from one side to the other. Your hips move, liquid sex dripping hot down the curved slope of a wine glass. You’re being deliberate, and you like the way my gaze makes you feel.

My eyes flow down your side as you pass in profile, resting briefly on your hip bone as it rolls toward me. A gentle crest beneath your silk-smooth skin, slightly rounded into a perfect handle and all mine. You grin up at me, wearing just that innocent smile and some barely-there lingerie.

I pause to appreciate the lace arcing over your slow-swinging hips, wrapped around your waist the way my hands will soon be, containing the taut sweet dream of your body. It traces above your hip and goes back... I struggle to follow it, but you're taking another step and I lose my train of thought.

Your leg bends, raising a foot forward as you swing a hip into turning, and you're teasing me, reveling in it, and a surge of frustration courses through me. Before I voice a word, you turn around. My eyes trace the line of your lace thong as you pivot. They follow the thong across your side, and my breath catches as your ass comes into full view. 

Delicious, full swelling curves overwhelm me, and I drown in sensation as time coasts by. The lace drips down,  sinful and sweet into the cleft of your ass like a pale moth into a flame, and I follow it toward you.


I don’t think of moving, but then I’m holding you, facing me, as my mind works to deal with a rush of primitive urges. My hands dig into the flesh of your ass, pulling it toward me, pulling you against me. I want to rip you apart, to taste you, to feel you against me a thousand thousand times. I marvel at the smoothness of you again, the way the flesh of your ass yields under my fingertips and the way it presses back. 

You make a sound--something close to a whimper and close to a gasp--and it urges me on like a siren’s call. I take your hip, spinning you around and grinding into you as you turn before pressing myself against your ass. I let the sensation wash over me; the ripe fullness of your ass presses against my pelvis. You’re on your toes now, struggling to keep your ass pushed against me as hard as you can.

I rock you back and forth, rolling you against me and losing myself if the feel of you for an eternity that lasts just a few seconds.

Then I push you away, hard toward the bed. As you stumble forward, bending slightly, I watch the curves of you stretch and flex: beauty and raw lust mingled together.

Your ass begs me to take it, to own it, to press myself against it as I fuck you out of your mind. It begs me to sink my teeth into it and dig my fingers in. The testosterone-fueled reptile brain at the back of my mind tells me that you’re just a fuck toy; that there is nothing beyond that ass. I recognize the sentiment--oversimplified and far too limited--and push it aside, moving beyond that primal haze and focusing on the girl in front of me as you roll over on the bed. I see the full sloping curves of you and your brilliant, sparkling eyes, inviting me to follow you as you bounce onto the bed.

You start to rise, but I move down to you and flip you over, pushing you back down into the sheets. I put a hand on the back of your neck when you try to rise and you whine back at me, needy. My other hand cups one cheek of your ass; I’m still hypnotized by the way it fills my spread fingers so perfectly. I draw the hand back and your breathing stops for a heartbeat--anticipating--then swing my palm smoothly back down to spank you flatly across one full cheek. I hear an excited gasp and know that I’m not the only one getting exactly what I want.

I don’t need to hold you against the bed--you know what to do and arch your back to give me more access to the curved addiction in front of me, and I grab a rough handful of you. Your skin sings under my fingertips as I land more open-handed strikes on your ass; they leave faded pink marks like the glow of a ripening fruit. 

You walked in hoping for this, I realize as you look back at me over your shoulder, and the thought of it makes me harder as realize just how lucky I am. Grinning back at you, I start to loosen my belt.

- J 


2 comments: