Kind of Wrote a Porno
Will, what can I say to you. I can’t decide if i want my fantasies for us to come true or if it would be better for nothing to ever come to fruition. In my head, it goes one of two ways. I yell at you. I tell you everything, why I was so hurt, why I said those things, why I stopped being your friend. And then I ask you to explain it to me from your perspective. All this time I have craved your perspective on this experience. Did you just not realize how much you were killing me, or did you just not care? From there the road diverges, you either tell me everything I want to know.
You apologize profusely for hurting me. It was never your intent. I tell you that I needed space to move on. You as me if I moved on. “I don’t know…” Your scar is highlighted by the small smirk that springs to your lips- the lust and challenge in your eyes causes me to lean back ever so slightly before shifting closer. “We could test that,” you whisper in my ear, your voice deepened by desire. “Don’t you want to know if I can still make you moan.” Each word punctuated by a kiss on the soft supple flesh of my neck. My back arches with the contact, a small gasp tunnels its way out of my body. You chuckle ever so lightly, the feeling of the sound as it moves through your lips makes my skin tingle. A soft shiver runs through my body. “What do you want to do, Laney? Do you want me to fuck you. To make you moan my name. Do you want to feel me? Every inch of me.” I cannot take it anymore, I climb into your lap, my lips desperately searching for yours, my hands in your hair, you hands digging into my ass pulling me closer to you until we are flush. There is no room for air between us, the heat between our bodies causing the temperature to rise in the room. My lips part slightly and you take advantage of the opening to slip your tongue into my mouth. I moan, deep and throaty. Its all you can take. I can feel you stiffen beneath me, the gentle pressure I reminder of what will come and cum again. Your hands come to grip my ass, kneading and scratching the muscles until I am writhing on top of you. You moan at the friction each shift of my body causes. Our lips part as we both pant and sign, trying to regain our breath and control the fire that threatens to consume us. I shift backwards, creating space between us that you soon close as you lean in to resume your gentle ministrations against the sensitive skin of my collarbone, slowing working your way closer to the exposed tops of my breasts. I arch against you- pressing our hips closer together while opening up more of my chest to your touch- and your right hand finds mine. A moan punctuates the air, soft and breathless. Your left hand finds the buttons of my shirt, slowly popping one after the other to expose more of my skin. Pop, pop, pop. Until a clear path forms towards my milky breasts- heaving against the cups of my favorite maroon bra- and lower. You push the shirt off of my shoulders as i reach a hand under the hem of yours. Two can play this game. You nose the edge of my cup out of the was as you kiss a line down my chest. As your lips find my right nipple, stiff with arousal, I begin to kiss the lobes of your ear, gently at first- hands scratching against your back as soft as a feather. You stop, open mouth breathlessly panting against my nipple- the sensation of moving air causing it to become progressively harder- the feeling both incredibly stimulating and windy distracting but I focus on the task at hand, your second greatest turn on, sucking on your ear lope. I nip at the skin lightly before taking the whole lobe into my mouth, my tongue swirling against the velvety soft skin. A moan. I focus on that sound, determined to elicit a another, deeper response. I work against your sensitive spot, sucking and kissing until you cannot take it anymore. So unabashedly aroused you grab my ass and pull me closer, your erection grinding against my center in the most deliciously intoxicating way. “Lacy…” My name escapes on the wings of a moan. “I need you Will. I want more. Will.” I whisper into the hollow behind your lobe, voice clouded over with unfiltered want. You groan, grab my wrists, and throw me back against the bed, arms pinned above my head… I moan at the force of it as you begin to work at the buttons of my jeans, finger whispering against the hem of my lacy underwear, teasing, taunting before pulling off my pants and throwing them to floor. I give you a look as you kneel between my legs and you sigh and relent and i sit up and slowly undo the button of your pants, finders whispering against your growing erection. I glance up to look you in the eyes before licking my lips and undoing the zipper. You groan against me, your green boxers already darkened with want. Frustrated with how slowly I’m working, you toss your pants onto the ground- where they mingles with the other discarded layers; a pile that is sure to grow by the end of the night- before fixing your full attention on my lips, my breasts, and the few scraps of lace that separate us from what we both want- you inside of me, in every and any way.
