Right away, you and I entangled our fingers. From the moment you looked at me squarely and said simply, that you wanted me…you had me right then. You leaned forward and my lips parted. Your hair brushed against my chin and your scents flooded my body: your hair, your fragrance and the sweat beneath all those notes. My fingers wandered up to your neck and traced your jaw. You stopped to look at me, as though disbelief briefly mingled with the seductor in you. The seductor with a wet cunt and soaked boxers, ever so confident in fitted G-Star denim. It was cold that night, you walked me to the metro with your arm around me. Because I had forgotten my coat and was too proud to accept yours. Instead, I accepted your mouth ravaging my neck, your hands pulling my ass to you. My feet were frozen in those heeled boots, but I didn’t mind it. I stepped even closer to you, wanting to feel your mouth and breath on me. All night long.
That moment of seduction consummated the inevitable. The gravity beneath all other desires pulled us in close. To each other. Yet, all those months ago, we couldn’t have predicted we’d be learning each other so well.
You prepare me with your tongue, but reformat every primal expectation with your fingers. Sliding in and out of my wet want. Throbbing. My bare feet arch, heels digging into your back, pressing into your ribs. For balance, for communion, for everything you give. And you give it to me good, a fistful of pleasure every time. You fuck me hard, suspending my fragility. Undoing me. Deep as you are inside me, I always want you impossibly deeper. My cunt wants to swallow your arm to the shoulder, tiger.
Sitting at a bar stool, we’re quiet and contained, but people notice us. They stare. Wondering if you are a man or not. You confuse them but I remind them we belong. We may look good but we fit, together. I wait for a moment when no one is looking. Holding your gaze, I slip two fingers into my mouth, lubricating them quickly. I reach my hand over to you, beneath the collar of your shirt and rub my wet fingers along your clavicle. The sensation is subtle enough to undo you. Looking back over at me, you show me how urgent it is for you. We leave soon after and can’t wait to kiss. To touch, to fuck. We undo each other, anything else would be a mistake. We undo each other willingly, lips smothering and tongues taunting. A succulence soft and riotous. You push me against a wall in the middle of the night, press my nipples so hard, I struggle to contain the echos of satisfaction. You press me and push me and pull me and plunge into me, leaving me breathless. Deaf to the world. You work me so good, until the bell of desire can’t be unrung and all I hear is us, moaning.
“I love it when you come like that,” you say, hands on my hips.
For balance, for communion, for everything you give and untangle in me.
For elty, without whose affection and pleasure I would not be so whole.