Gavin / Sunday morning

He seems to like it when I suck him. I seem to like it when I do. I do so gratefully. Such a precious chore. Mine all mine. We do this. This is mine. 

We stand on the balcony and have a cigarette and he runs his hands over my hips and the curve of my arse and spanks me playfully. He pulls up my dress. it feels like the whole entire world can see my cunt as he exposes me on that balcony. I moan and tell him how much I liked the smack and he takes that opportunity to flop me over his lap on the couch and smack my arse until its rosy.

He decides to come. Leaning across my body. Expelling all over my chest and face. I scoop his effluvium in desperate greed, into my little pink mouth, while he showers. I touch myself in thebedroom. I want to come so badly. He packs up his belongings around me in a fleeting glance, touches me momentarily. Closes his bag and the weekend away.

I have my hand between my legs when he kissed me good bye. My eyes fade in and out in desperation. He takes one last look at my sorry, desperate face and he closes the door... and he leaves me. 

My cunt contracts, a wild and desperate lonely climax. Without his guidance or control. Without him. Something all of my own. All alone, its something. I let my body melt and moan and blend into the sensation. So ready, so wanting and sore. So poor an so over.

I get up eventually. Its difficult. I abandon the bed and I look in the mirror. 

My body is a sick and sorry canvas. Bruised tits and split capillaries, under my skin. My arse is covered in finger marks, my back in scratches, my neck in deep grey shapes. The skin on my face is raw and it itches.  Come drips from my cunt down my thighs. I look at myself and into myself. Lost and wild and alone. I look through myself and feel strong and good and nothing. I am nothing. I am everything. I am marked and I am perfect.