I’ve been sick for the past few days – miserable sick, please-someone-put-me-out-of-my-misery sick, there-is-no-God-because-He/She/Whatever-wouldn’t-do-this-to-anyone sick. I’m better today which is what prompted this:
I lie flat on my back across my bed, legs hanging off the sides, feet barely touching the floor. I close my eyes and feel the gentle breeze from the ceiling fan caress my body.
I feel your hand on my neck and breasts, moving down my stomach and over my leg. My breath comes a little faster. My legs tremble.
“Don’t open your eyes,” you whisper.
I shake my head, wordlessly. I’m incapable of speech.
Your hand pushes my quivering thighs apart. The bed dips where you kneel between my legs. I feel your fingers glide across my hot pussy. Your breath is hot against my neck. My pulse races in anticipation I was ready for you the moment you touched me. Your other hand holds my wrists above my head. You will take what you want today.
I feel you enter me in one fluid motion, slowly but smoothly. Your cock fills me, stretches me, completes me. You know I hate it slow, but you move in and out, agonizingly slow, stroke after stroke. My eyes still closed, my body arches towards yours. I’m panting, gasping, barely able to breathe, so close to begging for…
“Mooooooooo-ooooom, I swear I didn’t do it!” comes the cry from downstairs.
Damn, it was a lovely thought while it lasted.