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Another rich, heart-felt Friday, late-late-late in the afternoon…

The sun is going down, dipping its head low against the breast of the earth past the long arms of cascading willows blowing lightly in the breeze. For a moment I look over my shoulder, the bare skin of my lower back pressed against the sinister, stained white of a painted brick wall. Heel twitching lightly against the floor, the long tip jerking anxiously like the tail of an agitated cat.

You’re late… and I hate it when you are late.

It makes me angry and reminds me of broken promises from my childhood. None of which have come from you, up to this point you have been such a good and stable boy yet my mind stalls then hiccups… life’s experiences have a way of catching up with us, haunting us, bending us over the most veneer of furniture and raping us violently from behind.

It is quite possible, I think quietly to myself that at this very moment as another second of the clock twitches past, that I hate you and I know, even before you arrive that trouble is brewing. My rage and anger are bubbling up from closed depths… and even though it is not your fault, it will be your loss because… my heel twitches with distraction… you are my temptation.

Outside the heated street tugs at the silhouetted people passing by…

I love the way the bluish-orange haze of the sky begins to flirt with softer shades of purple and all of the surrounding buildings loose the coloring of their faces as they stand firm and erect to meet the end of another day and the beginning of a new night; their identifying features becoming less discernible.

You wave, deep, mellow voice calling out “hello” with the slightest hint of a lisp.

I nod in recognition; lips curling with satisfaction as I rise from the disjunct twin of the other bed perched against the opposite side of the room. A thought back-fires from somewhere within the recess of my mind as I pull away from the window and involuntarily note the contrasting features of the two beds… the bedding of mine is twisted and wrinkled, the edge of one fitted sheet clings loosely to the top left of the mattress. The other bedding is pulled taunt and smooth, crisply into a near perfect picture of perfection… yet I wonder briefly for a moment, slender caramel fingers twining around the knob of my door… is this a metaphor of our lives?

The light from the hallway spills into my darkened room, right palm lingering against the threshold as I turn… it dips back in and flicks on the inner switch as I pull out into the hallway and begin to move forward to meet you. Today I am wearing plum-colored patent leather pumps with plaid leggings in a deliciously maroon medley. A taste of red here, a touch of navy blue there, all lavished over a soft cream like tightly Ataşehir Escort pulled shibari. The print is small and the squared-off corners of the textured pattern meet and intersect at points that create a cornucopia of small squares that ride over my curvaceous hips like minuscule needle points.

“Good evening Charles,” I whisper, smiling like the Cheshire cat as I let your arms curl around my backside to pull me close against you. The warmth of our bodies bumping together as we meet sends small waves of excitement through me like sparks from an electric current running over water. I lean forward to press my mouth to your cheek, half-parted, the lips glide together over your skin to form a gentle kiss.

As one of your palms rolls over my ass pinching lightly and playfully in a discreet manner, I whisper, “you’re late,” then pull away.

“I’ve missed you.”

“We’ve only been separated for a couple of hours, damn.”

“I know.”

“We can’t be together every goddamn minute. I need some space!”

My door closes and the room grows still, for a brief moment we sit in silence while the rest of world continues to flourish outside.

I hear laughter, talking, and the giggles of girls fading as they walk down the street, backsides highlighted by fluorescent street lamps.

I’m sorry. I’m stressed… Got a lot of stuff on my mind. Things to do…” my voice trails off, deliberately stating all of the things you want to hear, striking the notes of sympathy that will give you temporarily relief… pause… comfort. I’m winding you up like the tiny springs and coils inside of an antique wristwatch.

Again, you begin to speak, voice soft and yielding, carefully, lovingly stepping across stones as you try to emotionally trudge you way through the overgrown path between us. I can see it in your eyes, a delicate pleading, that swirls around and around through the hazel haze, “help me…. please,” it whispers, clinging to the golden green flecks of your eyes like tangles of moss on rotten branches and mottled tree trunks.

“Charles,” I whisper softly, getting up from my tangled bed and crossing the room to your crisp twin. My palms roam gently over your cheeks, caressing your chin, squeezing your shoulders. Ruby red claws trickle down your back scraping gently over your dress shirt. I come to my knees, kneeling between your thighs and it’s almost as if I’m standing at the edge of a dilapidated wall. Witnessing your body crumble, each cell collapsing and giving in as my hands continue to run down. Our bodies mingle, coalescing together into a muddled puddle of flesh and emotions, symbiotic… your yearning to be loved tears at my heart and I know deep down inside that if I dwell in this space for too long it will break.

“—–,” you Kadıköy Escort call my name softly, voice quivering as I pull away and the words continue to tumble-down, spilling from your lips in the sweetest of confessions but I can barely hear them over the rushing of my own heart. “I’ve been with a lot of women through my life, had a lot of experiences… I’m ready, I want to settle down,” again those puppy dog eye’s tugging as they beg for acceptance.

“So you. Are. A. Hoe!”

Strategically placed, my tongue clucks over each word, swiftly delivering my first blow like a balled fist ramming into your gut.

Shock and desperation overwhelm you… I notice that your cheeks are beginning to glow like a stoked furnace. The humiliation creeps in slowly like an ember feeding on a hiss of hot air.

More rambling. An endless stream of hurried explanation on your part, you want me to understand that you simply want to be loved and cherished and I do… I hear, I understand but I haven’t decided if I want to give you love just yet.

“How many girls, Charles,” I whisper smugly as I reposition myself. “Do I need to be tested for an STD and if you are so ready to settle down than why didn’t you manage to hold on to any of those girls,” arms crossed, roosting now like a buzzard waiting for the last hollow breath of its prey. I look down on you from a position of power, like a righteous preacher delivering a sermon from the highest pulpit, my voice thunders with conviction, “those worthless sluts. You have no self-control! Why would I EVER settle for a worthless whore like you?”

“Where are they now!” I growl, talons digging into the edge of the desk, griping hard and tight until my knuckles burn as if on fire. “Did they leave your worthless ass?” Legs jutted out demanding the majority of the space between the desk, the beds, and us. You’re trapped in an area of limited space and I am sickened. My soul screams out in self-conviction. Parasitic! I’m most definitely going to hell, but I can’t help myself… you are my temptation.

Down… down… down we go, plunging into the rabbit hole. Clinging to the edges of our emotional roller coaster. My voice is low and steady like the grinding 8 liter W16 engine of a Bugatti Veyron rumbling down the tracks. I shove 1200 horse powered words into your face, tapping into your deepest, darkest, and most sacred fears. I know that you are a good and trustworthy man, that I am safe but still my words are inflicted, driving deep into your psyche like mortal wounds. Cold and calculated, subconsciously grinning, I watch the last bricks of your self-esteem tumble.

“No-nooooo,” you stutter.

It’s amazing! Did I imagine it or did I actually just hear and see your adam’s apple click; locking in silence, dwelling in confusion, Bostancı Escort your head shakes, your gaze plummets and my heart begins to ache.

You rush to your feet and I spring from my perch on the desk.

We circle each other like enemies preparing for a battle. Shouting! As I continue to feast on your emotions. The energy, the electricity, the improperly balanced synergy between us is exhilarating!

You dive for the door, hastily trying to make your escape but I get there first and plaster myself across it like a human shield.

“Where are you going charlenna…” my voice is sweet like honey as it bubbles over, “you’re such a bitch!” You stagger backwards, recoiling… possibly retreating.

My eyes widen. I stretch to the tips of my toes, Goodness! I’ve never seen you act quite like this before and it is simply delicious!

You utter a few broken words… we both strain, you struggling to speak and I working to decipher. We both are leaning forward from the waist. You’re weary, using the last of your strength to hold yourself up while I eagerly arch forward, weighted down by a desire to see, to feel, to experience whatever unexpected surprise may come next!

“Let me out.”


“LemmeoutIwanna… leave!”


“You want to get through this door,” my heel stomps down, “you got to get through me first!”

Uh-oh… you stand erect for one brief moment, looking as though you will decisively step forward but crumble instead.

Suddenly I notice the soft mews, the sputtering, the whines reverberating dully around us.

Hot tears splash down your face or rather I finally notice them for the first time and I rush forward to gather you in my arms. You fight at first, pleading… “I jus-just wanna leave.”

“You can’t go… you can’t leave,” I whisper through kisses, desperately working to repair the damage I’ve done. “I’m not going to hurt you… charles…” my voice raises, “Charles!” I grab your face and stare deep into your eyes, commanding you to come out of your subspace. I refuse to let you retreat to a place of numbness. My hands are everywhere on your body, massaging the flesh, compelling you to open up and return to life. My lips crush against your cheeks, brow, and eyes then neck, flooding you with the love you deserve. Gently at first I continue to shower you with hot, wet, sloppy kisses until I lose patience and devour you…

Yanking at your clothes, I force you backwards. Your knees buckle against the bed. Dress shirt buttons snap, raining down onto the floor. My mouth is on your chest, teeth gnashing and gently nipping, pinching! Your zipper comes undone then my hands dive inside closing around you. Feeding off of the warmth of your cock as you press firmly against me. I moan into your mouth and begin to stroke… roughly drawing you out, exposing your vulnerability.

I pin you down and we begin to fuck… my hips bucking and thrusting over you. Our bodies coming together, limbs entwining like a needle pulling thread. I pleasure myself while mending your soul.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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