13 July, 2009

Beneath Him

His touch is so gentle as he arches his body above mine, pressing me into the bed. I run my fingers over the strong planks of his upper body, the bunched muscles in his arms and chest. I can feel how much he’s holding back – all that potential he’s keeping leashed for my sake. He brushes his lips over mine, the faintest of touches, his breath warm against mine – he murmurs that he loves me.

He fits his body to mine, entering me. He’s so big, so wide, and I’m so tight, so small beneath him. My body stretches to accomodate him, my eyes widening as he keeps pushing, so demanding in his quiet way. I gasp as he bottoms out, and I tell him he’s too big, that I’m too small, that it’s too soon, that he’ll hurt me. The first stroke hurts, but in a good way. The pain is slight, just a further widening of my delicate tissues, and only serves to highlight the differences between us. I cry out, I moan, I keen, but I never tell him to stop. Instead, a steady stream of words pours out of me, telling him how big he feels, how enormous...

Read the full story @ Thursday's Child

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