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She senses him. She becomes sleek and lustrous. She stands before the closet in blue cotton panties and bare legs. Her shoulder blades fluidly recede and her spine recoils, legs parted, with one arm in the sleeve of a sweater. The other pulls it over her head. She senses the change with the acuity of prey. Her motions slow, suddenly mindful of her own beauty’s allure. And just as suddenly she springs. The chair. The bed. The carpet. And then she’s caught, head down and hand at th back of the neck. Her chins to the carpet. She can’t look anywhere but ahead of her. He makes sure her knees under her. He makes her ass is high, lifted behind, and almost above her. He moves over her. She grips the edge of the carpet. He grips the back of her neck. He pulls aside her blue panties with the other. And then her toes curl, her feet lift and arch, and her belly button’s piercing shines. So deep. Like this. Almost too deep. And then her own long, exquisite groan as the heat of him bursts again and again under the skin of her solar plexus. He shudders violently. “God fucking damnit,” he says, “just look at you.” He pulls out, straight up, and out of her pussy, slowly, wetly, glistening. “What do you think that’s for?” He smacks her ass. He finishes dressing. He leaves her like that. She stays like that. She half sucks, half bites the tip of her thumb. She gazes dreamily out the window. Her pussy, like a cup, fringed with the whiteness of him and upturned.
····orgasm so deeply inside—her thighs remain
Redbud | December 7 2016