he on me. he in me. his heat and mine. his sweat. his breath. his hands.
I insist we make love in the dark. I want him to feel what I feel. Sometimes I know he keeps on the light, watching me move to him. Thinking I move for him. I do.
"I wish you would tell me what you like, so I can please you."
"You think you could possibly please me more than you do?" I wisper to him. Feeling his form with the tips of my fingers. I know what he likes.
"I can feel it. You're kinky, Evelyn." He laughed and rolled off of me, presumably to turn on the light.
He's asked me more times than a million. He won't like what I want. I've heard him get angry about things that are like it before. If he only knew. He wouldn't understand. A woman like me is supposed to be moral. She is supposed to hate what I want.
He goes in the bathroom, I hear the shower running. He's singing his favorite song. Forming the words with his tongue. He won't like what I like. He won't want to hear it.
Imagine: me on him. him in me. me feeling him, hearing his noise as he speaks unintelligibly. a kiss on the lips, deep and long in the dark. feeling his long, strong legs and the place where his arms make their end. handsome in the dark. he likes it more because i'm in control. i am for once in power. for always now. he likes it. he cums.
I cum.
I can hear him returning to me. He is wet. He falls on the bed. Close to my ear, he says in his sexiest voice as he squeezes my breasts. "You started over without me."
His finger goes down to his favorite cave.
He won't like what I like.
Index
Story: Maria
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