**Content Warning: This piece contains mild sexual themes. Read at your own discretion.**
He spun me onto his lap, hands grasping my hips.
How wonderful, I silently marvel, to be with men, who make you feel tiny with their naturally wide hands, broad frames, and long bodies.
Perched against him like this, long hair cascading like a waterfall between us–I feel like some sort of etheral creature, ready to enter the divine plane.
He looks at me with a hunger that equally frightens and delights me. His eyes are twin jewels, shimmering with mirth and curiosity. His mouth is eager and the hunger I witnessed before I now feel in his lips.
His ever-moving hands slip unto my bare skin, kneading my soft fleshy sides reverently. I can feel my heart beat faster, struggling to get enough blood to my faint-feeling brain.
Sense fades from my senses. Entirely new whispers of desire, want, and sex permeate from an animalistic part of my mind that has long been asleep.
He calls me irresistable and I find myself consenting as he pulls off my shirt. Surely now he can see how out of breath he makes me.
I revel in how well he touches me. He knows exactly where to go, how firm, and for how long. I push away the realization that this indicates he’s had practice with others.
“You really going to sit there and not take my shirt off too?” he murmurs with mock indignation. I giggle and do what he asks.
Almost by magic, my bra is undone and slips away. He rakes his fingers across my back, making my spine arch. Fingers tangled in his hair, I could listen to the sound of him kissing me all night long.
He bites my nipple and I jolt in surprise. Glancing up, he flashes a brillant smile and gentles his caress.
I wish I was as well versed as he. I’d like to see him as enthralled with my touch as I am with his. Then again, he seems to be enjoying himself as is.
We eventually fall back against the sheets, his body wedged between my legs. He nibbles my neck, just how I like, and slowly works his way down.
Pulling back my waistband, he reaches for more. Once again, tender hands pull off my clothes–pants are flung to the wayside.
I feel an unsettling amount of cool air against my skin. I’m soon warmed by his kiss on my inner thigh, the crevice between my pelvis and femur…the outer corners…the inner corners…
While his tongue works away, I grip the sheets and my neck relaxes in a transformed state of ecstasy.
Who is this man who treats me like some sort of household deity? Who is so beguiled by me?
Who is this man who adores what I like least about myself and offers himself for the sake of my pleasure?
Far too soon, he pulls back and closes my legs–face coming up to nuzzle my chest.
I quietly brush my fingers across his cheek, rubbing his silky curls between my thumb and pointer finger. His arms tighten their possesive hold around my waist.
He closes his eyes before asking, “Did that feel good?”
I pause briefly to guise how much the event meant to me.
“Yeah,” I whisper, “I should say so.”