by Kit Scanlan
You’re cock-deep in me and all I can notice is the swell of your breasts, not unlike mine, when I was twelve. Your stomach rounds, not quite Buddha-like, but I can see how it might get there in ten or fifteen years. I might not be around to see that, though.
I can feel our sex streaming down my thighs and DAMN I’m going to have to wash these sheets again, third time this week. Why does it have to be this week that I want you all the time? I have goddamn work to do, I’m busy, but somehow I find myself on top of you, time and time again.
Tonight we made time, though the pile of papers on my desk makes it hard to concentrate on cumming. Hard like you can’t get sometimes. Hard like you are now, thrusting in and out and yes yes YES but you missed it again, you changed the rhythm and it’s lost. Why don’t you just spend yourself inside me and we’ll spend the rest of the night watching a movie and waiting for the sheets to dry. Don’t worry baby, it’s ok, I’ll get myself off later – I can do a better job than you.
I don’t say that out loud – it isn’t really important, and neither are the sheets. It’s enough that you make me happy, and I do enjoy the sex, even though it damn sure ain’t perfect.
Happy Anniversary, baby, and here’s to another year.
Kit Scanlan is a twenty-something out of college with no marketable skills, but she sure does fantasize a lot. She's proud to have burned over 4,000 calories in one week due to sex alone (that's two whole days of food!) and so can now fit into her little black dress. Follow her on her blog: http://rosesandraptures.