“Just Her Skin”
Her skin. It was smooth, but beyond the cliché words and phrases, smooth as silk, smooth as satin, smooth as velvet. It was smooth like fine sipping whiskey. It had the texture of sweet cream and as soft as a hazy fog blanketing a meadow in the early morning light. Her skin had a rhythm. It was fluid and hot like molten glass. It was lightly tanned as if the sun had lovingly romanced it. Her skin was as delicate as French Alencon lace. He loved her as though his very life depended on it. He felt pangs of jealousy if another man brushed up against her in a crowd.
She had striking, exotic features, but she did not consider herself beautiful. She was comfortable with her looks and beauty as society defined it was not of great importance to her. Her hair was a rich mahogany brown. Her eyes were amber in color. She had only one tattoo and it was located on the small of her back. A line of three graduated purple stars with ‘Orion’s Belt’ written in black script under them. It was the only constellation she could identify in the night sky.
“Why purple?” He asked one day. “Stars are gold or silver not purple.”
She replied with a sly smile gracing her lips. “You know purple is my favorite color. What makes you so sure there aren’t purple stars?”
He pulled her into his muscular arms and eased his lips down her neck. He was overcome with her fragrance. She uses a lavender essential oil to perfume her skin. If he was blindfolded he could’ve picked out of a room full of women. A guttural whisper flowed into her ear. “I don’t know if there are purple stars but I do know we haven’t made love today.” He turned his attention to her lips. He kissed her deeply. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth. He groaned. “Lady, you’re making my cock throb.”
“I don’t feel like making love today.”
He pulled is head back and gave her a puzzled look. She licked her lips and slipped her hand down the front of his jeans. She rubbed her thumb in a circular motion on the head of his aroused penis. A small amount of pre-cum leaked out. She removed her hand and traced her thumb across her lips. “I feel like fucking. Are you, pardon the expression, up for it?”
He kissed her again and spoke against her cum covered lips. “You feel like fucking? Then why don’t you fuck me? You take control and I’ll be putty in your soft, warm hands. I want you to mold your body to mine. Put your warm, dewy lips around my penis. Then climb on top of me and ride me. Take my cock in your hands and slide it into your honey slicked well and tighten your muscles around me. Ride me until you make me come, convulse, erupt, rage inside your tight, beautiful wetness. Drain me dry. Finish me off.”
She took him by the hand and led him toward the bedroom. “Then come with me, come near me, and come for me my love.”