Drown Me, You Make My Heart Beat Like the Rain

He calls me Pooh in the sweetest, most endearing tone of voice. I can’t explain the complex web of emotions it brings about in me. When coupled with his beckoning me to his mouth for sweet kisses, I can barely breathe. He cups and sucks and lathes my breasts, showering them with attention. His eyes meet mine while he does and I can do little more than pant and squirm against him. He groans against my nipple and nuzzles the pale flash.

“I could spend a whole day here, just sucking and kissing and nibbling your beautiful tits,” he mumbles into my skin.  Continue reading

Past All Thought of If or When, No Use Resisting

It is 4 am and I feel the warm cascades of sleep threatening to envelop me, but so too do I feel aroused, in need. We’ve talked all night and it’s miraculous that I’ve kept my hands to myself until now. I am feeling pliant–no, more than pliant, I am feeling subservient, submissive. How strange the subtle difference between being willing to be used and wanting to be of use. Not just to be of use. I want… pleasure. Of a kind that only he can bring. Like reading my thoughts, maybe reading the tension, reading me, suddenly warm and fidgety and doe-eyed, he speaks up first.

“What do you want, baby? Anything your sweet little heart desires.” Continue reading

If We’re Talking Body, You’ve Got a Perfect One, So Put it on Me

The long fingers of one hand wrap around my throat, his other arm snakes around my waist and he hoists me up and pins my back against the long line of his body. He growls in my ear; wordless, a raw, animal sound. My fingers automatically close around his wrists and stroke at his skin. His body is vibrating behind mine; he is heat lightning and raw thunder and energy. I feel small and vulnerable in his hands. His teeth close around my earlobe and he drags the flesh into his mouth. His thumb at my windpipe slows my breathing down until all I can take are deep, slow breaths, fighting for the little air he does allow me. His hand at my waist forces its way in between my skin and my clothing, sneaking past my skirt and rubbing against the outside of my panties, stroking me between my thighs.  I can’t help but rock my hips, but let my fingers snake around his wrists. There is heat inside of him, an urgency born of jealousy and a fire that’s been simmering all day. Continue reading