Evie
Did you ever love her? Do you know?
Any thought of even attempting the smallest of reciprocations vanishes beneath the expert twist of his tongue, the drag of his hands up and down her back and sides. She can only lay back and squirm and whimper and cry his name and senseless pleas she wouldn’t remember the structure of even mere seconds after the words leave her lips.
Pale, freckled thighs tighten slowly as his mouth works her over seemingly endlessly, time unspooling like thread on a discarded spool. Only to leave her wanting at the last moment, panting and humming intermittent, trembling moans as he pulls away before she can reach that precipice. There is no strength in her legs left to resist, to pull him back in. What remains is used to tilt her head to see him, to reach for one of his hands to hold and squeeze in place of his shoulder. “Yes, perfect, please,” she babbles, begs, all grace and wit lost in the haze of pleasure and the still-aching desire for more.
Pale, freckled thighs tighten slowly as his mouth works her over seemingly endlessly, time unspooling like thread on a discarded spool. Only to leave her wanting at the last moment, panting and humming intermittent, trembling moans as he pulls away before she can reach that precipice. There is no strength in her legs left to resist, to pull him back in. What remains is used to tilt her head to see him, to reach for one of his hands to hold and squeeze in place of his shoulder. “Yes, perfect, please,” she babbles, begs, all grace and wit lost in the haze of pleasure and the still-aching desire for more.
Or did you just never want to be alone?
