Interlude

She only belongs to those who take

She doesn’t quite know what to say or how to say it. The day is unfolding and the thoughts and feelings of the night and morning escaping.

There was this: a cock in her mouth, ramming against her throat, interfering with her breathing, thrusting so hard she did not suck or lick, she just struggled to breathe.

There was this: a rapacious appetite, bite marks on his thighs, her face worshipping at his groin, her eyes closed, her thoughts in a dozen places at once, but always coming back to the moment, the smell of sex, the sound of self-control breaking.

And there was this: ‘Fuck me hard, harder – I want to feel like you will break my pelvis,’ and the sound and sensation of bone against bone and pleasure and pain commingled.

And there was release, toe-curling, soul-freeing release. Finally. She had cum for you so many times in the past six days. But she had not released like this, not in all that time. Always something holding her back, just enough so that, at the end of it, she remained unsated.

And when she fell asleep, you came to her, and you demanded. Everything. And she didn’t even try to fight you any more, broken and hungry and knowing that this was fulfilment for her. Not having to ask. Not having to explain. Coach. Just to be taken. As you wanted to take her.

She woke up …happy is not the right word. Happiness is no longer possible: happy is what she had before she had this. But: almost relaxed. Almost sated. Able to contemplate the day ahead without a fire consuming her from within. For a while.

At the back of her mind, letting this thought simmer:

A few weeks ago, she spent a weekend alone in Vancouver. On one of those nights, she had dinner and too much wine with a man she knew wanted very badly to sleep with her – and she went to her bed virtuous and alone, and not at all tempted. On another night, she spent the evening and much of the night, including four hours alone with him in her hotel room, with a man she very much wanted to sleep with. There was no transgression, no hint of one, even though she knew exactly what she had to do to get him to cross the line: she knew what he was waiting for, and what he needed to see or hear from her to escalate things.

She does not like to ask. Or encourage.

She belongs only to those who will take. 

What would you do if you had her alone for four hours in a hotel room?

She dreams of that every night.