Even my play list teases me, songs that make my hips roll. Shampoo suds sliding thick and bubbly down my breasts. Dropping from the tips onto my belly. Or following the curve around the sides and between. The seductive valley following my spine made by the muscles that lay on either side. Slipping further between the shadowed space between my plentiful cheeks.
A tightening in my pelvic muscles causing the slick wanton tunnel secreted away in my body to clench. Need. Drumming. Everywhere. Every gush my gypsy heart sends out is electric with need. I want to be possessed here in this moment. Shoved against the wall, face turned sideways. My calves screaming to hold me steady while your pleasure is taken. Taken. I need to be claimed. Your fingers grinding into my hips, your teeth pulling on my skin and muscles. I need the deep pain you provide. The one I dream about.
Well thanks. Now I’m horny too.
Only returning the favor.
We are either really good for each other, or really, really bad.
Or really good at being really bad.
Yes. That one. I’m pretty sure it’s that one.