Her first touch is electric, liquid fire on my skin. Unexpected, but not surprising; terrifying, but
Her first touch is electric, liquid fire on my skin. Unexpected, but not surprising; terrifying, but yet still a relief. I close my eyes and try to control the rhythm of my pounding heart, but the absence of light intensifies the sensation of her caress. It dizzies me, I fall back into her arms. “It’s okay baby,” she whispers, the voice of trust, the avatar of security, breathing warm words into my ear.I shiver as she hooks her fingers under my bra, as she slides the straps over my trembling shoulders, as the cool night air pricks at nipples already hard as stone.I know that this is wrong, this betrayal, this trespass. I know that I must leave, that I must break the spell that Ms. Ford has cast upon me. But I cannot. I could no more fly to the moon than flee her cloying embrace.“Lie back,” she says, touching her lips to the nape of my neck, pushing me gently down to the waiting bed. Her soft perfume invades me, intoxicates me, and realisation seeps into my mind. I know where she means to go, what she means to do, though it is instinct rather than experience that informs me.A warm flush rises from between my legs, igniting my senses, pushing me deeper into the hazy trance of my desire. “Lie back,” she repeats, barely a whisper, no force or threat, but I find myself moving, falling, turning, opening myself like a spent marionette with no more resistance left to offer. And then she’s on me and my innocence fades like an afterthought… -- source link