I grip them by the hair and pull up. My hard clit falls out of their mouth as they rise to their feet. A thin stream of saliva drips down their chin. I stand with them, pushing my chair away with my heel. They look me in the eyes, tears glistening in the flickering candlelight. I tighten my grip on their hair. It isn’t as if I was not enjoying myself.
I buckle on the collar and they let out a low moan. I almost can’t hear it, it is so soft. “That’s right, love. I know this is what you need.” We’ve been going back and forth with me wrestling them down and putting them in their place all afternoon, lazily establishing dominance and letting it slip away so we can start over again. I think maybe, just maybe, they have reached the point where they want to give in completely.
My hand finds her hair and I slide my fingers in at the nape of her neck. A single twist and I have most of her hair in a tight knot around my hand. She’s waking up to this, to my hard clit pressing against her ass, still sticky and rough from our sex earlier. “Fuck! Miss!” She twists her head to look me in the eyes. I tug harder, pulling into the arch of her back.
I let the bike idle for a second before I kill the engine. The thumpy twin has my clit tingling already, though it probably helps a little that she’s pressed up tight behind me, the only thing between us, aside from my leather jacket and our clothes, is my knife in its sheath in my waistband. I turn my head to look over my left shoulder. “You can get off now.
I didn’t know what I needed when I stepped away. I took time to myself to heal. There was grief over a dream (two dreams, really) after so much so much for them. All I needed was to know myself, my goals, my passions. To renew my love for love.
The marks on my skin are a testament of loss. My walls are covered in memories of them all. Each one important; each one gone from my life, from my world never to return. Never to be together. Forever. Alone.
My hand grips their hair as hard as I can. I twist my wrist and push my hand down, dragging them by the scalp to their knees. “That’s my good boy. You only need a little direction.” I don’t think they can see me, but my smirk must be audible in my tone. “Fuck! Princess!” “Oh, hush, fuckdoll. We both know you like it like this.” Their cheeks and the tips of their ears turn bright red and their hands move to shield their face.
I step through the doorway. Coming home from work is such a relief after a long day at the office. I drop my purse at the door and hang up my jacket. I slip out of my sandals and my hand snakes up under my shirt to undo my bra. I don’t think there’s anything that would get me to leave the house this afternoon. Fishing in my sleeves to pull my bra off, I turn and walk toward the bedroom.
Their grin is so charming as they lean in close to me. I just want to sit up straighter on the edge of the bed and kiss them. I smile up at them as they lean over me, naked from their shower. They have other plans. Their hands rest gently on my shoulders as their face comes in close to mine, almost close enough to kiss. Instead of bridging the tiny gap to my lips with theirs, they shift the position of their hands slightly and push me back on the bed forcefully.
They taste like the sea I can almost hear crashing against the sand, only more so. The flavor of their cunt fills my mouth and my heart at the same time. I know instantly that this is what I’ve been missing. Who am I kidding. I knew that years ago. I’ve known that since the night in the rose garden where they parted their legs at just the right time for the scent of their cunt to mix with the sparse and lonely rose blossoms near us.