Lace and leather

On my knees in black lace and leather, eyes wide open, I salivate. My tongue almost laps at his tip.

He stares down at me with bedroom eyes. I’ve seen that look before, once or twice, many months apart.

I stare back at him, lure him into my core.

Stay a while, I say without words.

Still on my knees, my mouth warm and moist, I invite the inevitable. I can almost taste his manhood.

I lick my lips. He watches closely, his body tense and rigid.

The connection is there, deep and real.

Also simple and complicated, consistent and predictable, recurring and relentless.

A delicate dance between fantasy and reality.

I feel his hands touch my hair, light and sweet at the back of my head. He needs it, my lips on his cock.

It’s all I need to begin. I use my mouth, not my hands, to end the suspense.

Later, my hands will play a part.

But for now, our seduction continues its torturous game.

*this is a prelude of a more complete flash fiction piece I am working on.

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