He wasn’t your usual mongrel in man’s skin. His basic urges and needs ,that were assumed to run any man, were unravelled before her in a painfully slow manner. So much so that she knew no shame in begging, pleading and beseeching that the teasing would lead to pleasing.
If this was what a slow con looked like, then she fell hook, line and sinker.
At home her yearning consumed her to the point where sleep was torture. Clawing at the sheets and grasping every bit of herself imagining and soon enough needing, more. His deep dark smouldering gaze rattled her from the core.
She had never been so fixated on one thing or person for so long. It was beginning to feel all wrong.
With closed eyes,however , she saw her own demise, in those dark puppy eyes looking up at her like a prize. Unfolding her, unearthing more than one surprise.
Locked in his arms, shuddering at their sheer size, she was willing to compromise even if it meant being ostracized.
Soft, smooth plump lips planted on her own. One of the few ways his adoration is adorned.
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Photo by Stuart Miles. Published on 13 August 2014
On freedigitalphotos.net – Image ID: 100281867