Saturday, February 16, 2013
and so to bed...
He could never remember, afterwards, exactly what happened on that night…that sweetest, most intense, richest night of his life so far.
It was only a series of vivid images…of power, of Eros, of her…
He remembered being before her…
Her hands on him. His clothing stripped away, falling to the floor, like the petals of a flower.
Standing before her. Her hands on him. Touching him. Roaming over his body. His passive, willing accepting body.
Her kissing him! Tightly. Tightly. And her kiss! A kiss of fire and firmness. A kiss that was almost brutal. Almost cruel! Crushing him into her. Lifting his face with her hands. Bending down to him. Her lips against his. Taking him.
A kiss …a kiss that told him that he was her property. That he was dear to her. But her property. That he had no choice in what was coming.
And he did not care.
He rejoiced in it. In his willing slavery. His erotic, delighted, slavery.