Categories
beauty fiction love short fiction women

1UP (Drabble)

games-lineup-1000

She looked at him across the dancefloor. Plucking up the courage to say hello again. The lights are kind to everyone in here, but she still feels a small shame at how time has left its mark on her.

She walks across the dancefloor. When he smiles at her, it’s twenty years gone in an instant.

‘Hello, stranger.’ he said. Jovial, like they’re old friends.

She goes to speak, but the words don’t come out. Again.

The world goes black, and words float before her.

INSERT COIN TO CONTINUE.

Categories
beauty love poetry Uncategorized women

rain of my attention

Beneath the actions,

The calm authority with which

I conduct myself,

The supple confidence

Which comes from being

Unencumbered by restlessness

Some part of me reveals itself

Rough hands made delicate

Deep, gruff voice softened

Into chuckles

Trained but not domesticated

My words are cool sips

Smoothing out into bursts of warmth

And each time I enter the room,

It becomes the first time,

And a rush of adolescence

Returns

Like the building of static

Before a storm

And you dance in the rain of my attention

The ribald peals of laughter

Ringing like church bells

And this, the closest

I’ve come to knowing faith

Makes me feel

As close to salvation

As I’m likely

To

Get

 

Categories
beauty love lust poetry sex women

A Deep Kiss

oh how

My will

Seeks expression

Through your flesh

My lips

And tongue would

Kiss my intentions

Into the damp, warm

Places of you

Drink each glistening

Drop 

My hands would

Compose hymns

To the divine

With each pinch

Stroke

Sliding them slow

Exploring the 

Throb of your 

Need and calling

It into the air

With my body

And it’s rough

Power

I would gently

Capably

Redraw the boundaries

Of your soul’s

Capacity

For love

To match the beauty

That draws out the

Beast within

And all his

Rapacious poetry

Categories
beauty love poetry sex women

As you walk across the room.

Photo by Andre Moura on Pexels.com

The sight of you

In motion

Giving voice

To the divine

Feminine

Calling through

The bland cream of

Culture

To the primal masculine

Stripping me of empty

Words filling the void

With animal laughter

The curves

Draw out the divine drug

Of lust and like the lupine tides

Of full moon I change in

Your light into something

Dark and intent

Inspired to

the warring roiling

Clash of bodies

My breath sticking

Napalm in my lungs

At the sight of you

Would you be shocked

At the admission

A confession,  offered

Without guilt or shame

The chains that tether

A man to the rock

Of propriety

And I would tear

The clothes from you

Not to spoil

But to be witness

To the fullest terrifying

Beauty of you

Surrendered to pleasure

My eyes are full

And I am quiet because

I am not thirsty

But hungry

Categories
beauty love lust poetry women

Even your silences

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Speak to me
You hide but I have
Seen you too well
Not to spot the camouflage
Which eludes others
But I have
A need, salt and sweet
To see you
From every angle
To taste every drop
And to have you scream
My name with joy
Step back afterwards
Into velvet shadow
Rest until your need
Draws you out
Towards me

A star falling

To regain its

Fire once again

Categories
beauty love poetry sex women

As you walk across the room.

Photo by Andre Moura on Pexels.com

The sight of you

In motion

Giving voice

To the divine

Feminine

Calling through

The bland cream of

Culture

To the primal masculine

Stripping me of empty

Words filling the void

With animal laughter

The curves

Draw out the divine drug

Of lust and like the lupine tides

Of full moon I change in

Your light into something

Dark and intent

Inspired to

the warring roiling

Clash of bodies

My breath sticking

Napalm in my lungs

At the sight of you

Would you be shocked

At the admission

A confession,  offered

Without guilt or shame

The chains that tether

A man to the rock

Of propriety

And I would tear

The clothes from you

Not to spoil

But to be witness

To the fullest terrifying

Beauty of you

Surrendered to pleasure

My eyes are full

And I am quiet because

I am not thirsty

But hungry

Categories
beauty love lust poetry women

Even your silences

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Speak to me
You hide but I have
Seen you too well
Not to spot the camouflage
Which eludes others
But I have
A need, salt and sweet
To see you
From every angle
To taste every drop
And to have you scream
My name with joy
Step back afterwards
Into velvet shadow
Rest until your need
Draws you out
Towards me

A star falling

To regain its

Fire once again

Categories
beauty books lust sex women

Nothing Keeps Me Anywhere – Chapter 3 – 4 by Dahlia Bliss

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CHAPTER 3

I took them through a warmup, got their energy flowing and told them they were to show unsentimental compassion and a sense of direction. No routine, just to hold a belief the same way that you would cup a candle flame to keep it from the wind.

Freddy just wanted to hang out. Jimmy never came back. Ben stood with me and we started talking to a group which included someone I recognised. Leaning over, I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered into his ear.

‘You’ve got to project your best self.’

The other woman from the coffee shop. I saw her before Ben did. With her hair down and the weary resignation of work lifted from her face, she smiled when she saw him and I let him walk towards her.

‘Wait, wasn’t this the…’

Turning around, there was Andrea, sipping from a tumbler as she looked at Ben. Then I caught her eye.

‘Hey.’

Ben blustered and the woman stepped forward as she raised her hands.

‘I never said he was an asshole.’

Andrea’s eyes settled on me. She smiled as I took a slight step forward. Her eyes widened, but she did not flinch even as I stood in front of her.

‘I’m the asshole here.’

She laughed and winked at me, brushing a lock of hair back behind her left ear.

‘It’s healthy that you admit it. It saves time later.’

Her friend shook her head and crossed her arms.

‘I’m sorry about her. She can be an asshole sometimes too.’

Andrea waved her off.

‘Hey, we’re all assholes,’ Ben said.

He gave a quick nod and I winked back.

Andrea came forward, her face softening as she punched him on the shoulder.

‘Sorry. Just fucking with you. Here for the seminar?’

He looked at me and I nodded. She leaned forward and told her name was Lizzie, before he nodded and smiled.

She flicked a glance to Andrea, who lifted her chin.

I turned to Andrea and she shook her head as she spoke to me.

‘Is this what I think it is?’

I leaned forward to explain what was going on and she swore under her breath as she shook her head and pointed past me.

‘It’s ok, we get them a few times a year.’

Terry played the wingman with a student. I asked her if she wanted to go somewhere so I could hear her. She looked at Lizzie, who was smiling and touching Ben on his upper arm as he spoke to her.

‘I think they’ll be all right without us.’

She cocked her head to one side and squinted at me.

‘You can vouch for him, right?’

He turned his head to flash a simple grin in my direction.

I told her he was decent. She leaned back and appraised him before turning back to me. Her eyes were dark and wet as she took a pull at her glass. She ran her lips over one another and my eyes wandered over the pulse in her throat and the lean sculpture of her shoulders.

Her expression made me feel heavy and thick.

‘How do you know all this?’

She shrugged her shoulders as she leaned forward and her breasts shifted beneath her vest. She let me watch as her mouth came to my ear.

‘Why do you care?’

My eyes flashed to Terry, who had turned to see me speaking to Andrea. My throat squeezed back the stab of frustration that came up. She turned her head and saw him. He shook his head, with his lips pressed together and his nostrils flaring before he turned to address the small group hanging on his every word.

‘You aren’t friends with him.’

I shook my head. But there were attendees around. Gossip is our enemy, in this business, as it strips respect and authority. Even he didn’t deserve that. She put her hand up as she nodded in recognition.

‘You’re being a class act about it. I get it.’

Nodding and thanking her as she gestured towards the bar, I didn’t want to draw his eye. But then, one of his students was at her right elbow as she turned around. He was short, but his eyes remained fixated upon her.

‘Your energy drew me.’

Andrea sighed, putting her hands up and rooting him to the spot with a hard glare.

‘Thank you. I don’t want to be rude.’

He squinted, but when he spoke, his voice was rich.

‘I get a sense that you’re carrying a lot of potential energy within you.’

She groaned, folding her arms across her chest

‘ We’re talking.’

His face remained in the same slack expression as he continued to work the routine, unable or unwilling to realise his pedestrian error.

‘Well, sort of talk to me now.’

She gave a cynical laugh. I winced as he glanced backwards to Terry.

Stepping forward, my right hand rose to his shoulder.

‘You’re being too stiff.’

He blinked before grinning at the pair of us and walking away.

She didn’t laugh, watching him dart back towards the group of students and Terry, who looked down at him as he gave feedback. Andrea turned around and urged me to the bar.

She ordered sparkling water and I had a single malt as we watched Ben and Lizzie chatting. They were mirroring one another.

‘Does this ever strike you as creepy, John?’

My eyes settled back on her.

‘Who else shows men how to socialise?‘

She winced, shaking her head.

‘Is that what it is?’

Looking away from me, she took a drink and groaned.

‘Things like these treat women as test subjects.’

A small sip of the whisky warmed my throat as I considered her words.

‘It’s the men here who are the test subjects. It’s when they don’t learn how to do this that the problems start.’

She grimaced again, leaning against the bar and blowing the hair out of her eyes.

As my glass rested against my lips, I studied her over the rim.

‘I doubt you’ve ever been a target in your life.’

She rolled her eyes.

‘You’re a regular johnny on the spot, aren’t you?’

My smile remained in place.

‘Smooth talker.’

My lips curled into an affable grin.

‘I’m just present.’

She smirked and took a swallow of her drink.

‘I’m not saying I don’t like it though.’

She looked over her shoulder.

‘These guys need supervision?’

My eyes found Ben, the others were out of sight, and as he looked between the two of us, he broke into a wide grin before turning back to Lizzie.

Shaking my head, I asked what she had in mind. She said she didn’t live far.

CHAPTER 4

The streets were full, but she navigated the crowds, pulling me further from the bar. My phone rang, but it was Terry, so I did not answer it. She turned around, gesturing to my pocket.

‘Do you need to get that?’

I shook my head and smiled, stepping closer to let someone pass. As she fished into the pocket of her jeans for her keys, my lips formed the excuse that it was work, and I was not at work. She smiled and shrugged..

‘It’s cool.’

She took the stairs to her apartment on the second floor two at a time. I took the stairs, to watch the firm sway of her as she unlocked the door and bounced inside.

The door caught the flat of my hand as I stepped through, sending an echo through the space. She had stripped and stained the floorboards and there were only a few pictures on the wall, black and white glossy photographs of physiques shining with perspiration.

She pulled a well used French press from the drying rack, measured out the grounds into the carafe, and boiled water in an electric kettle. She stirred the coffee and set it aside to brew as she got out two mugs and set them between us with economic gestures.

She plunged and poured the rich smelling liquid as I asked if she’d studied the career I’d chosen and she chuckled under her breath.

‘We like guys who are men asking us out.’

I narrowed my eyes, but I could not keep up the facade as I laughed at her words.

‘It’s difficult for most people, Andrea, unless you have it within yourself.’

She passed me my coffee; her knuckles brushing against my fingers. Our eyes met and she took a step backwards as she picked up her own cup and gestured behind me. Stepping past me, her hip bumped mine and again, we looked at one another.

She unfolded a rolled futon as the rest of the room stole my attention.

There were books on shelves and a heavy bag bolted to the ceiling. Beneath that, a swiss ball and a rolled up mat. She sat down and brought her knees up to her chest, crossing her ankles.

Tilting her head back to look up at me, she asked me to take off my shoes before I sat down across from her.

‘So, do you only train here?’

She shook her head. No one else paid her rent. She fought four times a year now, but the sponsor only covered the gym and her equipment. Good pads and driving to fights ate up the rest. So she did shifts at the hotel and trained.  Her world was small and pure. She puzzled at that with a wobble of her head.

‘You’re working with an asshole, though.’

I chuckled at that and gestured to her.

‘That would be your opinion.’

She grimaced and waved me off.

‘He’s a fucking asshole. I know assholes and he’s one of them.’

My hands came together.

‘I recognise that.’

She leaned against the doorway, her forehead furrowed as she appraised me.

‘It’s not as fun as it used to be.’

She looked around the room.

‘Name one thing that is.’

A sigh of relief escaped me as the muscles in my jaw unclenched. There was the release that came from demonstrating a candid authority onstage, done so often that it was mechanical, and then there were these moments.

‘I’ve been doing this awhile. I can tell you how it’s developed,’

She gave a slight smile. Her eyes fell to the watch on my wrist and the buffed shine on my wingtips.

‘I cared about the work rather than the result. Money wasn’t the thing for me, it sits in my bank, sometimes I spend it or I don’t.’

A pang of regret stabbed at my insides, but the unburdening was a wonderful feeling.

‘Even that’s faded. I’ve helped many people, and now it’s all starting to feel as it did when I was helping CEOs not feel too guilty about laying people off to make the stock prices jump two fucking points. I can do it, but I don’t feel it. Not anymore.’

My tongue ran across my teeth, the release of speaking my truth made my hands shake so they came together, palm to palm as the energy of it surged through me.

‘I want to captain my ship rather than help other people sail theirs.’

She was silent, but feeling filled her eyes with empathy as she nodded.

‘I know where I’m trying to get to.’

She brought her hand to the back of her neck. Her eyes flickered towards me as I asked where that was.

‘Fighting,’.

I looked at her.

‘Is it just you?’

She shook her head as she smirked, keeping her hand to the back of her neck and leaning forward. Her fingers found the right spot of muscle and she smiled with relief.

She continued to move her fingertips against the ridge of muscle in her neck.

I laughed and told her about the trapped nerve I’d caught helping someone with a mobility scooter stuck on a travelator.

‘We all have pain,’ she said.

‘Can I help?’

She shrugged and said sure as she got onto her knees and came forward. I rolled up my sleeves and stretched out my fingers.

My heartbeat drummed in my ears as my fingertips smoothed over her neck and shoulders.

Black script that resembled a mandala covered her upper back. It was mesmerising, dense with detail that begged for my attention.

‘It’s a magic tattoo.’

My fingers slipped the hem of her vest up so I could see the entire tattoo. There was a set of simian features amidst a dense crop of black spirals that spread outwards.

‘Hanuman,’ I said.

She turned her head and her grin made my heart flip in my chest.

‘See, that’s it.’

Her voice was breathy as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

‘That’s what?’

‘You know.’

She pressed back against me. My hands wandered back up her neck, as my mouth went dry with lust at the play of her muscles beneath her skin. She whimpered when my fingers found the right spot on her neck. Then she sat up as she squared her shoulders..

‘You’ve done this before.’

She pushed herself back, closer to me.

‘I might have.’

She laughed as she lowered her chin to her chest and brushed her hair upwards.

‘You’re stronger than you look.’

My fingers danced down over her ribs, making her shiver and sigh. The skin on her arms prickled with gooseflesh and my mouth came to her ear, my lips brushing against her earlobe.

‘You have no fucking idea.’

She brought her head up and turned to one side, sticking her tongue out at me.

‘Yeah, right? Those are show muscles, I bet. Lots of arm curls, so you can wear tight t-shirts at the club.’

A chuckle prompted my fingers to press into the meat of her shoulders, moving in small circles.

‘You bloody watched me.’

She laughed again.

‘I did.’

There was a light in her eyes and a tough grin that made my cock stir. My hands smoothed up either side of her neck and my right hand cupped her chin. She turned around a little as my mouth came to her ear.

‘I get the sense that you want to ask me for something.’

She nodded, licking her lips.

‘I needed to make sure you weren’t a dick.’

My chuckle made her shiver.

‘Well, not a total dick.’

My lips brushed against the top of her ear.

‘Just enough of one.’

She sighed and gave a short, delighted laugh. She shut her eyes and shook her head.

‘It’s that fucking accent. I swear.’

My heartbeat thumped in my head.

‘Just the accent?’

She shut her eyes for a second before she looked at me. Her expression; open and dark.

‘I could massage your ego here, John, but that’s not what I want.’

‘Tell me.’

She looked at my hands, over my chest, settling on my face.

She shut her eyes.

‘I want you to take charge.’

‘What’s your safe word?’

She grinned and leaned forward, lobbed a lazy punch on my left shoulder as she bit her lip.

‘Hanuman.’

My fingers wrapped around her hair and pulled hard, which made her eyes fly open.

There were eager stabs of her lips and tongue against mine before she found my nipples and the concern made itself felt in the slight twitch of her mouth. Her fingers caressed my chest. My teeth bit into her lip. She groaned. My grip on her hair forced her head back as my lips trailed down her neck. My nose filled with the subtle tang of her musk and my right hand rested on her hip.

She swallowed as she shifted and pushed her crotch against me.

She exhaled through her nose, biting her lower lip.

‘There’s only one way you will make me stay still.’

My grip on her hair tightened.

‘I can think of one.’

She gasped, pulling her hand over mine.

‘Harder, please.’

She breathed in sharp little bursts.

She laid down and raised her chin.

‘Unzip yourself. I want to see your pussy.’

My voice sounded dark and low to my ears and her mouth twisted with pleasure.

My palm pressed against her collarbone and she laid down, her eyes glowing with desire

‘You will come all over my fingers, do you understand?’

She nodded as much as she could against my hand.

She undid her jeans with unsteady fingers.

‘Pull them down. Now.’

She went to shake her head, but a tug of her hair and her eyes glazed over with delight. She lifted her hips and slipped her jeans down her legs, kicking them off.

I wrapped the length of her hair around my hand, yanking it once more. She swore as she grinned.

‘What about my underwear?’

My gaze fell, then wandered up to her eyes again.

‘Take them down but not off.’

She sighed and pushed her panties down over her hips, revealing a slight line of stars that ran across her pelvis and a pattern of Fleur Des Lys at the top of her right thigh. My fingertips stroked across the thin scrub of ebony hair above her pussy and she sighed.

One finger slipped down and forward, plunging into the wet warmth of her. She pushed against me and my grip tightened as I pulled it back. The tip of my index finger whispered against her clit. She made a soft choking cry that sent a shiver up my spine.

The tender flesh of her pussy was slick with her pleasure. She arched against my hand. Her thighs fluttered with tension. She whimpered as her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clutched against the futon.

Her breathing came in ragged blasts, and her skin was hot and damp where it touched mine. Her face was tight and shut to me as she pumped her hips in rapid succession before she cried out and her eyes snapped open.

She clamped her hand over my wrist and shook her head before she collapsed back against the mattress. She let out a deep sigh and my right hand drew away from her pussy. My fingers were damp and I flexed them to ease the cramp that had pooled in my wrist.

She looked into my eyes and brought her hand to rest over my grip, loosening in her hair. She blinked, licked her lips and grinned at me. Then she swallowed as she tilted her head back to gaze at me.

I undressed with care, making theatre with my intention. Her chest rose and her cheeks flushed with heat as her tongue ran over her lips, her eyes drawing up and down my body.

‘That’s interesting.’

She chuckled and shook her head at my frown.

‘No, you’re uncut,’ she said. ‘I’ve not been with a guy who’s uncut before.’

My eyes fell to where my cock hung between my thighs, heavy with arousal. Then my hand returned to tangle into the back of her hair.

‘You will suck my uncut cock, Andrea.’

She whimpered as I forced her forward.

She stroked me, rolling my foreskin back as she sighed, her breath hot and moist on the tip.

She bucked against me, looking up at me, daring me until my grip on her hair tightened enough to make her wince.

Guiding my cock into her open mouth, her eager tongue swirled around the tip before her lips closed around it. An ache pooled in my hips and thighs.

As my hips thrust forward, she groaned and the hum of her mouth whipped my head back as the muscles around my cock contracted in small, rapid bursts of vibration.

She worked me with her mouth, eyes focussed on my expressions as she wrestled her tongue and lips around the head of my cock with a gusto that forced me deep into her throat. She wretched when the head hit the back of her throat and her eyes watered, but she didn’t pull away.

My orgasm was inevitable and as my cock pumped into her hot, gulping throat, she kept her nose pressed against my pubic hair.

She slipped my cock from between her lips. Her lips glistened with my cum as my hand stroked her cheek.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  Something unchecked was in her eyes. It punched me in the heart.

She sat up and we kissed. The salty taste of me mingled with her saliva until it passed and we drew apart to catch our breath.

‘Are you hungry?’

Categories
beauty love men poetry women

Vicious Angels

We are atoms

In collision

Collusion

Through it all

I feel you

As I go about my purpose

Through pain and hunger

Late into the night

Even as disaster looms

Like vicious angels

I remain

Endure

And in this

You surrender

Gentle animal

Kind to everyone

Implicit strength

Leaner now

But still

Tuned into

The symphony of you

I hear it

Can pluck it from silence

No matter how hard

You may try

Tear down

Or build

When it comes to you

All the same

Isn’t it?

Now shut up and come here

I want you to feel me

With a force I’m not sure

Wouldn’t leave marks

Categories
beauty erotica love women

Chocolate Covered Strawberries

I had gotten here as early as I could, but saw that quite a few others had the same idea. My stomach lurched at the thought of just being another face in the crowd, made invisible by weight of numbers. My solipsism had weaved so many scenarios for us, and this, the closest to actual reality, appeared to have unravelled before it could come to fruition.

I took ten minutes to get inside, moving myself closer to the front of the room. A stack of fresh hardbacks, a jug of chilled water and a glass dominated a small table. Federico, the owner walked through and grinned in disbelief at the numbers.

‘If you all buy something, I might make rent this month.’

A peal of nervous laughter snaked through the air. The ghost of online purchases made several people grip their copies a little tighter than normal, but Federico grinned, flushed with delight at the amount of people in his bookstore. I glanced around, not seeing anyone I knew, and enjoyed the slight cessation of my nerves.

Federico cleared his throat.

‘So, without further ado, allow me to introduce -‘

He said his name and my heart pounded in my chest.

He walked out from the back of the shop, his caramel eyes twinkling with nervous excitement. He wore a crisp white shirt, blue jeans and a black leather belt. His skin was tan, and his beard was thick and trimmed, dusted with silver around the chin and cheeks.  I watched his mouth, his lips and went into myself with the force of the connection.

Max glanced over the sea of people, smiling as he put his hands together.

‘Hi, well with these things, you know what you want to hear from me better than I do knowing what you want.’

His eyes met mine and he smiled, mouthed ‘hi’ and carried on speaking.

My breath quickened in my lungs as our eyes met. The reaction was immediate, fierce and visceral as my thighs clenched against the hot pressure in my pelvis. He kept glancing in my direction, smiling as he spoke. He offered to read a chapter from his work in progress and everyone applauded as he sat down to read.

His voice was melodic, with an interesting grain to it which drew people in. His accent made the inevitable erotic overtones sophisticated and beguiling, and by the end of the reading, I could see my own feelings mirrored in the expressions of the audience.

They were women, and when Federico broke the spell by asking if anyone had questions, some of them shifted in their chairs, resentful of being woken from the moment of connection he offered.

The question-and-answer session alternated between technical questions about his approach and details about the books he had written. He was polite, earthy and pragmatic about his approach, but he spoke about it with such passion he grew effusive and intense with it at points.

I joined the queue, having brought a copy of his last book. I got to the front. He looked up, flexing his right hand to ease the cramp of repetitive signing.

‘Hi.’ I said.

He smiled and set his pen down.

‘Hey, you. It’s great to see you.’

My face flushed and I fought the awkwardness that rushed into me, the warring emotions that his presence evoked in me. Body fought mind, thought and feeling wrestled within me and I passed him the book to sign.

He wrote something in the front, then signed it with a flourish and handed it back. His index finger brushed down the length of my thumb and I shuddered with excitement. I moved away and he held my gaze, evoking a twisting anticipation and nerve that made my eyes damp with a depth of feeling that robbed me of my calm. I left the bookstore, finding the mass of people too sensual and in depth to bear for a moment longer. The afternoon was bright and warm, I lifted my chin to the sky and breathed in deep, willing myself to calm down.

I opened the book. He gave me his room number and the pseudonym he had checked in under.

Spare key at the desk. Let yourself in if you come.

M

The signing continued until four p.m. I went to my car and sat behind the wheel, debating the urge to see this through.

I started the car.

2.

My voice shook when I asked for the key to the suite. The receptionist rewarded my courage by not looking up from the computer as she slid the card across the desk. I took it and walked to the elevator. The concierge asked me what floor and I told him. The elevator ride took an eternity viewed through the filter of my warring emotions. Each floor promised an exit, but something rooted me to the spot until I arrived at his floor. The doors opened and I stepped out, trusting that my legs would carry me the rest of the way.

I let myself in. It was an enormous suite, with a double four poster bed, a dining table, a mini bar and a desk set by the window. The carpet was thick beneath my feet and I glanced around, surprised by the opulence on display.

I heard the door open and turned. He stood in the doorway, a grin of unabashed pleasure and surprise splitting his face in two.

‘I didn’t expect you would come.’

His voice was soft, tinges of vulnerability set alongside the rough, deep brush strokes of his voice.

It robbed my mouth of moisture and I smiled as I turned around. I wondered how I looked to him in person. My self consciousness could be cruel and here it had a grand opportunity to stick its claws deep into my soul.

He stepped towards me.

‘Fuck, you are gorgeous.’

I flushed and looked away.

He shook his head and ran his tongue over his lips. He reached out his right hand and rested it against my cheek. The brush of his fingertips sent an electric charge through me. I squeezed my eyes shut and gave a choked sob. He lifted his hand away and I opened my eyes.

‘I’ve not been able to think straight since I saw you today. I don’t know how I made it through the rest of the signing.’

His voice had softened and sweetened with vulnerability. I reached up and touched the collar of his shirt, running it between my thumb and forefinger as I gazed into his eyes and nodded.

‘Nothing happens here unless you want it to.’

His voice had thickened. I glanced at him, the broad shoulders and deep chest beneath the tailored shirt, and he rested his hand over mine. His palm was rough and warm against the back of my hand.

An eternity passed before he leaned forward, his lips open and I glanced at them, soft and full before I shut my eyes and let every thought go in pursuit of the feelings his words and voice had awoken.

They had never gone to sleep.

Our lips danced over one another. Each contact was a flame igniting and an electric current charging through me, each pore of my skin opened to him, to all that his words had promised. When his hunger reached his hands, I whimpered and reached to guide them where I needed them the most. His fingers danced and pressed against me and we lost ourselves in the raw, beautiful moment of our first kiss.

He pulled back and grinned.

‘Are you hungry?’

I frowned and he laughed.

He went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a silver tray wrapped in cling film, which he tore open with lustful gusto. I caught the smell: fresh strawberries and the dark, rich tang of cocoa. He took my hand and pulled me to the bed. He turned and picked up a strawberry between his fingers and slipped it between my lips. I closed my eyes against the fresh sweetness and the following dark, rich burst of cocoa and cream on my tongue. I kissed him and he groaned with pleasure as he put an arm around my waist.

‘I will feed you, baby girl.’

You had heard him say it again and again but to hear it, in the air then dancing against the tiny bones of your ear, into your brain and body takes you to a place of divine decadence.

‘Yes, Daddy.’

3.

We fed one another, peeling away our clothes as we progressed from playful feeding to smearing streaks of it over one another.

We laughed at our audacity, and played things gentle at first, as much to assuage my nerves as to allow us to expand the afternoon into the play I had imagined in the fevered moments where my hands would act in his stead, trying to bridge the distance with the sweet fire of orgasms given up to him.

He ran a slice over my nipple and popped it in his mouth as he suckled me. My hand went to the back of his head as I pushed my hips up against him. I told him how sweet he was, and he looked up at me, circling his fruit-covered tongue against my nipple, feeding me with his beautiful, brown eyes as I fed him.

He did not rush to undress me. He savoured each unveiling as a treasure in its own right, or used it to enhance the stolen, assertive play of it all. When his fingers slipped underneath the waistband of my panties, and his fingers parted me before sliding forward, a raw, wild power charged through me like wild horses. Beneath his fingers, I clung to him as he massaged me, alternating his mouth between my nipples and breasts, making my chest wet and sticky. He covered me in his filth, took possession of me and made me his.

‘Please, Daddy, can I come?’

He moved his lips away from my nipple and shook his head. I groaned and pushed against his hand. His touch made me bold with need.

‘Please?’

He murmured no through a mouthful of my breast and continued to stroke around my clit. Each contact made the throbbing grow in intensity. I fought against it, but his touch was insistent and expert until despite my clenching denials, my orgasm burst within me, sharp and urgent. I clung to him, eyes closed to everything but the power of his touch.

He withdrew his fingers and suckled them in his mouth.

‘You taste so good, baby girl.’

I blushed and looked away, but he reached up and brushed his fingers through my hair before he leaned forward and kissed me. I reached to his waist and unbuttoned his jeans, then pushed them down and moved him onto his back. I reached into his underwear and pulled his uncut cock free. I rolled the foreskin between my fingers before I bent at the waist and took him into my mouth. He reached out and took a handful of my hair. The wanton urgency of it made me take him deeper and he gasped as I drew him in and out of my mouth. The velvet hardness of his cock against my lips fed my hunger for him and when he took a firmer grip on my hair, I swirled my tongue around the head and relished the burst of sweet pre-cum. I gulped it down and looked at him, my eyes wide with the joy of how he moved from giving to receiving without a loss of his power. A crude primacy made me bring my hand and stroke the tight, soft skin of his scrotum, how his testicles were full and the noises he made as I massaged him.

He growled that he would come and I nodded, too lost in the ritual of having him in my mouth, under my power and when he pushed his hips upward and grabbed my hair tight, I took in every drop of his vital, masculine self, suspended in the sweet thick fluid of his come. I swallowed him down and lifted my chin so as not to spill a drop.

He pulled me down to him and wrestled me onto my back. He reared back, his cock still half hard as he bit his lip and looked at me.

‘Oh baby girl, you are something.’

He undressed and came forwards. He kissed me on the lips then covered me with them, exploring me with his lips and tongue until he brought his hands under the backs of my knees and pulled me down the bed. A trail of beautiful, burning kisses tickled my navel before he gazed into my eyes and smiled at me.

‘My pussy is so beautiful.’

He lowered his mouth. He used his tongue and lips together, testing and rejecting particular combinations of pressure and texture based on my response to him. I stroked his head and closed my eyes, let his mouth fill me with a pleasure that was both transcendent and physical.

4.

Afterwards, when we had exhausted ourselves, he cradled me in his arms and pressed his lips to the top of my head.

‘What was that for, Daddy?’

I felt his smile opening against my scalp.

‘Everything.’

His voice had darkened. I had nowhere else I wanted to be, but the world was calling us both.

‘I don’t know when or if I will see you again.’

The thought lashed across my heart and I struggled to remain lost in the gooey, creamy bliss of his presence.

‘Well, it’s funny you should say that.’

I lifted my head and looked at him.

‘Don’t make jokes like that, Daddy. It’s not funny.’

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

‘I wouldn’t joke about something like that. I can’t confirm anything yet, but it’s part of why I’m here on this leg of the tour.’

He would not reveal anymore. Instead he took me into the shower with him. We washed and touched one another, hungry for one another beyond the recuperative limits of our bodies. He dressed and walked me out to the car. We did not exchange details because we had never been out of one another’s lives.

I would message him, saying and not saying what I had taken from the night together and then one morning, he sent me an email with a link to a local news site.

It was a press release that the university would appoint a famous writer to teach a course there. The photo was from his press kit, a head shot that showed his delicious smile and the sculptured line of his jaw. A moment perhaps when he was alluding to happiness rather than feeling it.

The smile was for me.

For us.

I ran my tongue over my lips and tasted strawberries