There is nothing to say and it's fine. We're standing on the top of an arched bridge along our river path. The air is in that in-between breezy twilight after a muggy May day and before a rainy night. I lean into him, my forehead nestling into the crook of his neck. Our arms are lazily around each other. We kiss from time to time. Every so often a person or two walks by, but we pay them no attention.
"Hey Chef," I say. "My new shampoo makes my hair obscenely soft. Feel." He runs my hair through his fingers, starting with his fingertips at my hairline at the back of my neck and running them up along my scalp, entangling them there. His fingers close into fists and he pulls my head back, kissing my neck and biting. Fuck.
My eyes drift closed and I shift my weight against him even more. My lips spread into a slow, open smile. He pulls harder at my hair and my breath speeds up. He kisses me deeply on the mouth. I fucking love this. He's been sweet lately- taking care of me- which has been lovely. But now I'm feeling better and I miss his roughness. He's a good 7 or 8 inches taller than me, and the so-blatant-it's-subtle power dynamic of kissing him from below never fails to turn me on. I kiss him back and he pulls back on my hair, pulling me away from him. I wrap my arms around him and he lets me nestle against his chest a little. I'm breathing heavily and my panties are soaked.
He lifts my chin to kiss him, one hand still tangled in my hair, in full control of my head. I kiss him back and he slaps me lightly on the cheek.
"Stop. Moving." He whispers, soft and ominous. My pussy throbs. He is too beautiful to look at. My eyes drift closed again, mouth open and tilted up to him like an offering. He traces my lips with his tongue, slowly. I love when he slaps me and consider moving just to get another punishment, but I am enjoying this too much. I feel his tongue trail across my upper lip. I am hungry- starving- for whatever he will offer me. My mind flashes to the day when he kissed my lips around my ball gag. I don't know if he knows how insanely much this turns me on. The corners of my open mouth keep twitching into a smile but I try hard not to move. His grip is still tight in my hair, assuring that I do not.
I moan softly, despite myself. He pulls me into him and I get buried in his arms and chest and neck. He rubs my head firmly and then gathers up a handful again. Instantly I am his again, and I don't need to be told this time. My mouth is open, begging, still. My hands are frozen, gently wrapped around his back. I've forgotten I have a body beyond what he holds in his hands now. He kisses my lips, again licking them softly. I've never felt his tongue like this- never experienced it so fully. It's soft and smooth and warm and wet. He circles it gently on my tongue, which I hold still, passively. My heart is pounding and I am so incredibly grateful for his touch. My lips tremble. His tongue against mine becomes my whole world. A few tiny moans slip out- I can't help it.
Again he pulls me into his body, as if he knows this is almost too much for me. I kiss every inch of his skin- his neck, the bit of his hairy chest that peeks from his shirt, his shoulder, his chin. I stand on my tiptoes to reach more of him- up to his earlobes and his cheeks. He holds me gently but firmly, reassuring me that I'm doing well.
Once more, he pulls my head back and I open to him. This time his tongue goes deeper- past the shallow cup at the front of my mouth back toward my throat. He fucks me with his tongue- sliding in and out of my mouth, daring me to gag. I pant and whimper but stay as still as he has commanded. My ears ring with the sound of the water beneath us and my own breath. Blood pounds through my body. His hand finds my throat and squeezes. My body melts into him but I am held up by his fistful of my hair. He kisses my lips and then my shoulder.
His grip tightens again. My breath is shallow and strained. He bites my earlobe hard and his grip tightens once more, completely cutting off my air. It's tighter than he's ever choked me before and my body wants me to swallow suddenly. I try and I can't. He holds his grip for only a second, the releases me and pulls me into him. I am high as a kite and breathing like I'm coming down from an orgasm. He holds me tight, securely wrapped up in his gentle arms, and kisses me softly and deeply. I kiss him back, clinging to his body and buzzing with electricity and desire.
I would do anything for this man. I cannot formulate thoughts except for this one.
"There's a guy on a bench over there watching us. Let's head home," he says. Unable to contain my love-drunk grin, I hold his huge hand with both of mine and let him lead me down the dark path into the woods back to his apartment.
Republished with permission from On Intimacy. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.