Image via Pixabay
The fan whirrs overhead.
Cool air teases exposed skin.
Cotton scrapes and pulls.
Shifting sheets wrap and bind.
Quiet breathing, side by side.
A shift. A turn. The mattress dips.
The clicking of an open drawer.
Shuffle, push, move of a search.
Swiveling plastic. Is he?
Flesh into cream makes a long, thick sucking sound.
Turning, positioning my body.
One thrust. Two sighs of pleasure.
Warm palm, firm grip cradles my hip.
Heat permeates. Sheets off.
Iron grip on iron railing.
Holding. Bracing. Pushing back.
Grunts. Growls. Low moans.
Face in pillow. In blanket.
The air turns cooler
As bodies combust.
One. More.
Yes. Like that.
We find ourselves
Lost in sensations.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! Our Sunday morning fuck was lovely, but I was struck by how the smallest details stood out to me. Skin sliding against skin tends to feel good, but it was everything else that made it so memorable. Okay, enough of my poetic(ish) smut. Go see what the other writers have in store for you this week. You know you want to.
Love it 🙂 Although it reminds me of my bad 😀 … frustration with His health, my meltdowns etc- I cleaned up all the sex toys and put them away. He didn’t notice until He got in the mood and couldn’t find anything. I said “Well I though our sex and BDSM life was over.”
I love the simple word choice.
Awww, thanks. And I’ve noticed the moment I put things away, that’s when we need them again. 🙂
Beautifully poetic.
😀 Thank you!