‘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 off,” he says. “I want to see you; all of

pussy is running hot, streaming and my panties are hideously uncomfortable. I strip them away to reveal my dark curls,

of course, so

he picks up his glass from the

that. Lie back. Open your legs. Show me all of yourself.

My breath catches again.

back onto the covers but laid out so flat, I’m not

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

not used to the coarse words. They should offend me,

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

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

hand.

are you being shy? I want to know you. I want

he nudges at first one, then the

sits beside me on the bed, close enough that I scent him. He smells of musk and lust and sex

His lips don’t move, but his eyes smile as they travel from my face to my pink and parted folds, and

give you everything you ask for. Everything

desire, I trace the line of my swollen, almost melting folds with fingers that glide, wet

me your sweet spot. Show me what you want me to

away the hood of my

aroused like that. I can see that you’re embarrassed, but please don’t be timid with me. Give yourself to me. Show me what

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