10/02/05

Your hard chest is pressing against my cheek as your hands sculpt around my hips. Trailing your face down to mine, I’m pulled from your chest. Licking the side of my throat, you suddenly bite, hard, into the muscles of my throat. Moaning into the crook of your elbow, my knees go weak, and I’m now supported by the hand on my hip, the hand entwined in my hair, and your thigh between my legs. You release the vise around my throat, and immediately bite on my clothed nipple, the thin fabric sticking to your moist lips. You pull my head back by my hair, draw my face close to yours, and flick your tongue across my lips, briefly, and taunting. Just as I do not feel I can take anymore, you bite the other side of my exposed neck, leaving me a whimpering, lusting, and hugry mess of a woman – craving what she can never have –