I am ruthless and calculating. I bring you to the very edge. You beg for it; I can see it in your eyes. So I wrap my fingers softly around your throat and squeeze. And squeeze. Your skin is hot and moist and pink. Your pulse slows against my thumb. I squeeze. I can feel it when the air stops flowing. Your eyes tear up and close. Your body shakes against mine. Your arms fall ecstatically limp to the white, unwritten pages of my bed.
Later, you'll tell your friends about your wild exploit. About how hard you came. You'll scandalize them with the shocking details, and they'll laugh nervously, enviously. I will sit outside your circle and listen to your story, my eyes on my hands. The red prints along your neck a perfect match.
|
||||||||
|
|
|
||||||
|
||||||||
|
|
|
||||||
|
||||||||
|
|
|||||||
|
||||||||
|
|
|||||||
|
||||||||
|
|
|
||||||
|
||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|