Melita
I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles
I was always bloody knuckles
Maybe he’d been holding back the whole time, waiting for her to come over. A selfless precision she couldn’t quite fathom in the interim, but something sparked against her mind just the same – a little perusal for later, when they weren’t heightened by a thousand other things. But no sooner had she uttered the whisper and grated it into their movements, did he seem to unfurl with a last plunge.
She took it for what it was worth; claiming and taking her own with a pulsing, heated crescendo. A delightful, satisfying fringe, escalated and pulsed right down into her very core, moaning somewhere against him, last mewls and pants until the embers cooled, not so kindled, not so incensed.
Lifting herself off his cock, with a very wolfish, cat-that-ate-the-canary grin, she opted to remain straddled across his hips, and just leaned down, folding her arms across his chest, gilded eyes studying him. She didn’t really know what else to do or say after the shuddering maelstrom of a finale; so she was content to stare, poised like a queen. “So,” she uttered as a starting point, thinking he’d have something to add.
She took it for what it was worth; claiming and taking her own with a pulsing, heated crescendo. A delightful, satisfying fringe, escalated and pulsed right down into her very core, moaning somewhere against him, last mewls and pants until the embers cooled, not so kindled, not so incensed.
Lifting herself off his cock, with a very wolfish, cat-that-ate-the-canary grin, she opted to remain straddled across his hips, and just leaned down, folding her arms across his chest, gilded eyes studying him. She didn’t really know what else to do or say after the shuddering maelstrom of a finale; so she was content to stare, poised like a queen. “So,” she uttered as a starting point, thinking he’d have something to add.
and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me
