Monday, July 14, 2014

Wrap dress*



*Also known as the "She wore it to an outdoor jazz concert/kind of date with a guy she has a crush on because she wanted to look kind of conservative because there were kids around but sexy, too, because, well, she didn't want him to get the wrong impression, like think that he should totally behave dress."

And did he totally behave?

"No," Emily said, "men like that are way, way more aggressive than you can ever imagine, Sara."

"You...you didn't kiss, did you," I asked, wondering how aggressive he got.

"Kiss...it...it's beyond that, love, it's touching a woman's arm, it's leaning close, occupying a woman's personal space, it's taking her elbow and guiding her someplace. It's being dominant, it's asserting control. You know how you try to be non-threatening to a woman, safe, deferential, like letting her know you're not a sexual threat? That's you're 'safe' to be around?"

"Yea," I said.

"He's none of that, just the opposite, everything he does makes it clear exactly what he is and exactly what he wants. He...he's an alpha man, Sara, he doesn't try to reassure a woman that he's safe, that's he's platonic, by instinct he's making it clear he's the opposite. It's not, 'don't worry, I'd never make a move until I was totally told to by you' like you do, it's 'you'd better worry because I'm so totally going to fuck you."

"Fuck, Em, he said that?"

"Said it," she laughed. "He didn't have to say it, love, that's the point, it he projected it, something so much more powerful than saying it."

"Em..."

"Sara...next...next week...next time...I....I don't know if...if I can..."

"What?"

"If I can stop..."

"I know..."

"I mean it, I...he's like...I don't know if I can stop."

"Do you want to," I asked. "Stop?"

She looked down, bit her lip, shook her head. "No," she whispered.

We didn't speak another word for an hour; I couldn't because my mouth was too busy between her legs, licking her to orgasm after orgasm, and she couldn't because she was too busy moaning and moaning and moaning. I didn't speak, I didn't need to, my service, my submission, was all that was needed.

Later, though, later, as we fell asleep, I finally spoke, whispered. "Emily?"

"Yes," she looked over at me, eyes heavy."

"I don't want you to stop."

"I know, love, I know."

2 comments:

  1. This is just another example of why I love your writing, Sara.

    xoxoxo

    Christine

    ReplyDelete