I turned around to kiss you and you met me with your tongue, making your way between my lips like a cigarette from which I sucked the white cloud of your smoke. You filled me, you made me heady with your mouth and how it moved with and against mine. Your hand stroked between my folds as if they were strings, once in a while pressing down on a fret to play a tune to your liking.
“Oh god,” I said, yet you stayed silent, looking at my face, studying my lips, my eyes, and what your hand was exploring below. Your face made its way to my neck and your tongue drew a line from its center down to my chest where you exposed a breast and your mouth anchored down and sucked on it.
“I have wanted—” you started, pausing from your feast to speak, running circles around my n*****s between lines.
“To li
