‘Mine’…?

Am I his…?

I think I am….

He waits, saying nothing.

Waiting for my reaction?

Yes, I think so.

Biting my lower lip, I cup my breasts in my hands, lifting them, thumbing my nipples, pressing them together to exhibit my cleavage.

His eyes follow my movements. He’s keeping his cool, but I think I see the press of his erection showing. As I circle the darker halos of the areolae, the skin crinkles tighter and his pupils, widening, turn his already shadowed eyes all but black.

“Enough,” he says. My hands freeze in mid-movement.

His eyes lock with mine, then indicate down.

“You want me to….?”

“Show me.”

the top of my panties, his eyes tracking the movement. “Take them

truth, I am only too happy to take them off. My pussy is running hot, streaming and my panties are hideously uncomfortable. I strip them away to reveal my dark curls, glistening wet. Uncertainly, I run my fingers through the moist hair. I can scent

course, so

his glass from the side

there,” he says. “I want more than that. Lie back. Open your legs. Show me all of yourself.

My breath catches again.

but laid out so flat, I’m not comfortable, and it is

chair, pulls pillows from the bed. “Raise your head and shoulders,” he says. “I want you to be able to move. And I

used to the coarse words. They should offend

in the eye again. Perspiration runs down my face and I’m sure that my mascara must

you want me to do to you; where you want me to touch

the wine glass still in his hand. He sips at

shy? I want to know you. I want to see you.”

nudges at first one, then the other with the glass, easing them

him. He smells

wide, as wide as I am able. His lips don’t move, but his eyes smile as

me, and I’ll give you everything you

trace the line of my swollen, almost melting folds with

your sweet spot. Show me what you want

the

beautiful, you know,” he says. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, aroused like that. I can see

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