Marked ♦ A Photo Quickie by Ximena
She lay perfectly still while I traced the stories on her body. I had told her many times before that each one had a distinct flavor… she’d just laugh her huge booming laugh and kiss me quiet.
The colorfully scarred skin felt hotter against my tongue than the small expanses of virgin flesh. Even when I got lost in my own feverish thoughts between her legs, her pussy tasted and felt like a story waiting to be told. Was it love? I didn’t dare utter the word, or even think it for too long, even when she searched my gaze for a hint of her fate.
We were different to the point of being stereotypical. While she gleamed in a rainbow of colors, I preferred to exude white light. I was a winter pond, and she was the rock that broke through the ice and sank. The promise of her love weighed heavily on my heart, and there were times when I longed for nothing more than to be light again… clean, unattached.
I’d ask her why she’d chosen me, monochrome as I felt; she told me that she liked the challenge. I’d chosen not to have my history written on my skin for everyone to gaze upon and judge.
“You’re a beautiful mystery,” she said to me as she traced the silky skin of my areolas. She bent her graceful neck to lick, and the skin puckered as my nipple hardened and ached for the wet heat of her mouth. She caressed the unpainted skin from my shoulder to my knee, then pinched the top of my thigh next to my cunt hard enough to make me moan. As the bruise bloomed on my skin, she smiled.
“You’re completely mine to mark however I wish,” she finished, then bit into the tender area underneath my belly button.