Physicality

I whisper in his ear and play with his flesh, stroking him hard, arousing him, and inhaling wisps of control. I feel my heart beat strong as his eyes begin to roll. He hooks his fingers into me and holds me still.

I take him to a certain point then sit across his lap, rock and ride and work for him and contort my body until it gets relieved. I come for him in crashing waves, with noise and sweet contractions. We break and then I ask to pleasure him. He lets me and I do so and he coats my lips.

In between we go about tasks and jobs and day to day things. He fucks me against his kitchen counter and across his table. I gush onto the floor and twist and pulse in futility. We go upstairs and continue. We fuck in bed, and across furnishings, whichever way he wishes. I come for him in waves and backwash. He covers me in fluids. He eats me, he fills me with his hand and he hurts me. Today is a day of physicality and lust and release.

I am given to and taken from in equal measures, with paired desire. I am away form my head and following him, but my lips are split in smiles and I know I have enough today to prompt his pleasures, encourage his actions and make him want me.

He licks my cunt as I lay across his table. I kneel on the stones and taste him. He hits me with a belt on my hide, he smacks me across the face.

He is precious and he is using me, and I have him in my hand, and our brains are merely echoing when our bodies come together.