His fingers wrapped around her waist, one hand slowly tickling the left side as the other played with her beads on the right. His left hand travels higher, long fingers brushing up against the underside of her breast. His eyes never leave her's. There is so much written there, and she found herself enamored in the moment, she found herself controlled.
His left index drew tiny circles around the peaks of her chest, the sensations sent electricity to her core in short spasms. She felt hot fluid pool inside her essence. He had never mattered more.
She took her hands and traced the outline of his face, grabbed his messy dreads and shared her sensual energy with his body. No one said a word, eyes stayed locked, she almost quivered as his hands went further.
Who created clothes? What a useless invention.
He seemed mesmerized by her very presence and she felt the power of his veneration in the restrictive abode of his 501's.
She couldn't help but smile in the face of the long journey ahead.
His fingers found her core, she swore she would drown.
She threw her head back as his lips caressed her throat, soft kisses enticed and satisfied temporarily. She felt the buttons of her shirt come undone, she felt the warm air of the summer touch her naked skin and she laughed.
He looked up in question.
“It tickles” She whispered and he smiled in return.
A smile full of explicit intentions, a smile she adored.
---
#evl
(#evl = Evil Laugh, think Mojo Jojo)
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