Submitted by megan on Sun, 07/20/2008 - 21:21
She quirks her eyebrow up. It's an old dance; you know the steps well. You fold forward, hold your ankles. She tells me to spread your ass cheeks, to keep you open until you beg.
You do. You always do.
That's when she starts getting ready. The toys, the lube, the glove's final snap around her wrist.
She puts her hands on you, digits spread, a thumb on either side of your hole. You push out, plead again. She leans over, whispers. Her lips run sparks down my neck.
"Get it," she breathes.