“Make yourself come,” he says, fist around his cock, eyes glinting with bright shards of lust.
A single opalescent tear is born at the tip, trembles there, and escapes down the lip of his cock-head, over his fingers and disappears into the dark thatch of hair at the root.
I know what he wants. He wants me to spread my legs, to hike up my skirt and slide my fingers into that moist interior heat.
He wants to see my splayed thighs tremble. He wants to hear the liquid sounds I will make as my labia parts in the wake of my fingers. He wants to see me swollen and sodden and compromised.
It’s a simple thing, really: a reciprocation of exposures. You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.
And yet it’s not. Not simple at all. He wants proof that I am what he has conceived me to be. He wants revelation, confirmation. He wants word made flesh.
The venal crystallization of a fantasy. Soft curves and plump ripeness, flooded canals and high tides of desire. The breathless, ravening macrophage of lust.
I am all those things and nothing. Blinking in and out of corporeality, more firefly in a night garden than woman in an afternoon hotel.
Now I know, despite the dire warnings, he imagined me as uncomplicated.
Sitting there, with his erection in his hand, a marble statue of all there is to being a man. And so immutable his masculinity. So hard that nothing can harm him, ever.
But not me. The secret of my desires, the mystery of my need is my only shield and I will hold it to me like the one true talisman that binds my parts together.
To let him see what he wants is to shatter into glass dust.
This piece was written as part of @eroticnotebook’s #wankwednesday. A weekly writing prompt for short erotica. Go and take a look at some of the other entries here.
As always, simply amazing.
“erection in his hand, a marble statue of all there is to being a man” – damn that’s incisively good!
I think I’m always looking for the flesh made word #livinginsidemyheadonly
Thank god it’s Wednesday is all I can say. Pity I’ve to go off to work now…
Beautiful, thank you for taking part again this week RG.
Ruby
Thank you for having me!
RG, Very good, I love this point of view.
Warm hugs,
Paul.
Fantastic writings.
The only thing I wished more… was to continue reading.
What occurs when shattered into glass dust.
This stands out to me & brings a personal feeling to heart… “And so immutable his masculinity”
Since recently joining the madness that is Twitter, yours is a name that keeps popping up, always with kind compliments about your work. This is the first time I’ve had to sit down & really read one of your pieces and now I know what all the comments reflect!
Simply amazing from the story it tells to the way it is told.
Well, thank you for coming and visiting Annie. This is a little darker than a lot of the stories. Not much, but a little. 😛
A delightful capture of a moment of choice.
Truly brilliant…… I wanted to read on, know more, let the scene continue to draw me in….as I said, brilliant!
Mollyxxx
That shield is so difficult to keep up, especially when deep feelings are involved. This piece really touched me, reading it was like seeing formerly wordless emotions unfurling into prose. Thank you.
Such strong images within this… Just wonderful.
Reminds me of the atmosphere in an Edward Hopper painting. Heartbreaking how characters together in an intimate moment can be so alone at the same time.
Darkly lovely! I enjoyed the 2nd last part:
‘But not me. The secret of my desires, the mystery of my need is my only shield and I will hold it to me like the one true talisman that binds my parts together.’
Fabulous read as always
Exquisite: in every sense.