Worship

Her skin is sunkissed, dark and soft, baked by the gods. 

Her eyes and hair are deep and dark like soil, a product of the winds and rains from mother earth. 

And from that soil, she grows, shaped like a tart green pear, bright and refreshing. 

And she is his, and only his to pick. 

~~~

"I missed you," he whispers as I climb into his lap. I lean forward and press my breast against his chest. His fingertips graze my spine. Up and down, up and down. 

"Tell me what you missed?" I say, running my fingers through his dark soft curls and pouting at him before I tip his chin up and place my lips over his pulse point. The thumping of his heart vibrates through my soft full lips down to my sex. I am wet already. He hasn't cleaned up his beard yet. The thick dark stubble is rough against my glossy lips. My hand cups the back of his head as I glide my cheek against it, it feels absolutely delicious. "Your soft skin, your smell, your voice..." I blush, "hmmm?" I moan as my lips find his collar bone under his milky brown skin. "I missed all of you," he says as I bring my lips to his, feeling his erection already growing beneath me. "No one else is ever as good as you,” he sighs and I smile, this boy is obsessed with me. 

Since we added benefits to our friendship, neither of us has seen anyone else. We've found everything that we've craved in each other: support, communication, humor, trust, and topped it all off with amazing sex. My sex tells him what I wish I could say: I love him. But our friendship is too sweet to risk, and adding feelings to this situation would complicate things. Under the glow of the Himalayan salt lamps in his very posh guest bedroom, we're about to communicate more effectively than words ever could. 

He’s only two years older than me, but financially he might as well be 40. He’s got his own place; a three bedroom, two bath, comfy little house tucked away from the city. He’s having his bedroom repainted, a black and white color scheme that will match his new BMW parked in the driveway. Too busy building the life he’s always dreamed of to take on the upkeep of a serious relationship. But I like living in his world, even peripherally. 

I pull off his shirt and run my fingers through the curly dark hair on his chest. His skin is peppered with acne scars that are strangely sexy. "Show me how much you missed me," I say, looking into his deep dark brown eyes, and before I know it, he's kneeling before me, ready to worship. 

He starts by kissing my thigh over my basic black leggings, three pecks moving from my knee up to my apex and then down the other. When he's finally made his way back up, he kisses my sex. He takes a deep breath with his face pressed between my legs, "you smell amazing." He continues to french with her through the thin fabric, and when he's ready, his hands glide their way up my thighs and pull my leggings and my panties down in one fell swoop. He hooks his arms through my legs and pulls me to the edge of the bed. His tongue makes full contact with my clit before his thumb takes its place and his tongue is inside of me. He grips my hips as I grind against his lips, he sucks my clit until I cum, and even then, he doesn't stop. His thumb grazes over my clit ever so gently. I feel like I am seeing stars, and when I come down from my high, he cradles me in his arms. I take the opportunity to taste myself on his tongue.

"Your turn," I grin as I push him onto his back and begin to mount him. He glides my oversized sweatshirt over my head, and my hands undo the drawstrings on his track pants. "Condom? We need a condom." I look up at him through the wisps of my black curls, "Baby, I am one step ahead of you." He grins and reaches to my left, opening the bottom draw on the small bedside table, revealing a pink Conair blow dryer and a stack of blue foil packets. He uses two fingers to pick one up and hands it to me. I've never put the condom on, but there's a first time for everything. He bends his knees, and I lean back against them. He props himself up and kisses me. I sneak my tongue into his mouth, and he fights me, cupping the nape of my neck in his calloused hands. I moan into his mouth and grind down onto him. The kiss gets messy, just the way we like it. He bites my lip, "you've been teasing me for a while now. I loved the last set of photos you sent me."

I remember those, a baby blue set of lingerie that I got in anticipation of the next time I would see him. I sent him a mirror pic of my legs spread, panties visibly wet with my vibrator beside me captioned "day dreaming of riding you" with the winking emoji. "I was hoping you'd like that." My voice is raw and earthly, I moan as his lips move to my neck, and he whispers, "you've had me dreaming about you for weeks, angel. Show me what you've been dreaming about." I kiss him, and then I take the packet between my teeth as I pull his pants just below his knees. 

He's wearing grey Calvin Klein boxers, and I can see the outline of his cock vividly. Seven inches of heaven, just for me. He reaches down and guides it through his fly. My mouth is watering. I hold the packet between my index and pointer finger and flick it somewhere on the bed. I take hold of his shaft. I pool saliva in my mouth and let it drip as gracefully as possible from my lips onto his tip. He groans on contact and falls back onto the pillows, one arm behind his head and the other hand caressing me at my elbow. His eyes shut, and his lips part. I glide my hand up and down his shaft over streams of wetness, pulsating my grip, rotating my wrist. With my baby pink manicure, I give him the best hand job of my life. The sound of his moans only make me wetter. 

I climb off of his lap to the side of him, and that's when his eyes open. "What's the matter?" he says, looking over at me, eyes full of concern. "I don't want you to cum before you fuck me." I pout at him. "Baby," he says in a tone that's half comforting and half condescending. He lays me on my back and climbs on top of me, "don't worry," he says, "I can last longer than you think." He peppers kisses on my face, over my cheeks, and on the bridge of my nose. "Sometimes I forget that you're new to this." I blush, is that supposed to be a compliment? "Angel," he says, looking me dead in the eyes, "there's nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants and how she wants it." We both grin as he brings his lips back to mine and his fingers float down to my pussy. 

He fucks me with two rough fingers until I am gripping the sheets, "I want you. Please." I pout at him. "Then have me, baby." He sits up against the plush pillows, and I straddle him again. I grab the condom and rip the foil open with my fingertips. I pinch the tip and slide the latex down his shaft. His hands guide my sex down onto him and, his knees bend to create a perfect seat for me. I place both hands on his chest as I feel him fill me, and I keep our eye contact as he feels my warmth around him. "This is exactly what I dreamt you'd feel like," I kiss him and begin bouncing up and down, swirling my hips against his once we find our rhythm. 

"I want you on your back." He moans, as I ride him, my back sleek with sweat. I climb off of him and lay on the silky soft duvet that we hadn't bothered to pull back. He hovers above me and kisses me sloppily as he slides in. My legs wrap around his torso, and I hide my face in the curve of his neck. I can see the greenish-colored vein that runs up to his ear, and I can smell his cologne on him from hours before—grapefruit, nutmeg, and white musk mixed with his sweat. My fingertips toy with the cool silver chain around his neck as he slowly begins to fuck me. Long deep strokes send my eyes rolling back, and my breath halts in my throat. My legs tighten around him. I love the way he's fucking me—no, I adore it.

"I want you to look at me,” he says, practically panting. "Look at me while I fuck you, baby. Tell me how good it feels." My lips find his, and he kisses me. Our tongues mingle in each other's mouths, comfortable, familiar. God, I never want to fuck anyone else, ever. I bite and tug on his lip, he groans. My one hand rests on his bicep, and the other guides his face to my neck. He lowers himself onto me, one arm glides beneath me, under my back, and the other rests on top of me, grasping my right breast. "Yes, right there." I moan. "You fuck me so good, you know just what to do to me. You fuck me like you're in love with me, and I am in love with it." I moan, and he picks up the speed sending me into overdrive, "My body craves you. When I think about you, my cheeks get warm, and my mouth waters—and fuck, I am going to cum."

He doesn't speed up or slow down or change the rhythm. He keeps us steady as I cum on his dick. I feel my walls contract around him as I finally reach nirvana. "Baby, yes cum on me, oh my god, yes." I contract my walls, allowing my pussy to suck every last drop of cum from his cock. I've never let him cum inside of me before, but tonight I want to feel like I belong to him. He wraps both arms around me, resting his head on my bare belly as I scratch his scalp, fingers dancing through his thick curls. We lay like that for what feels like forever before he looks up at me, out of breath, and says, "so, you love me?"

Photo by Julia Kuzenkov