Its late.
The world is asleep
Warm orange glow from the street lights blankets her car.
Its hue unfolds itself across the interior.
She parks.
Lights off, engine stopped.
Her heart beats bassline rhythm.
The music of anticipation has her inner goddess dancing
She smiles to herself
Bottom lip curls up under her teeth
She climbs into the back seat
Lays down and dials his number
His voice is Miles Davies jazz
Soft
Low
Mellow
Eyes closed she listens to him speak
Replies with wit, sharp sarcasm, playful banter
His response is consider, subtle, focused
She can hear him smile
Carbon dioxide builds in this small space
Blends with the woman mist that has formed across her garden
He can hear her want
Its audible silence is loud
It echoes between her words
Between the valley of her thighs
Her body revs
Hormones race
Inner goddess has become a racer
Speeds around corners of longing
Zips passed logic leaving it far behind
Accelerates
While fingers cruse across the track of her inner thighs
The fuel burns as her inner goddess welcomes
Nimble fingers that move slow but cause tingles to race up her spine
He speaks slowly
Navigates direction of finger tips
His voice dictates
Commands
Guides the vehicle of fingers
Circles
Loops
Accelerate
Faster…
Faster…
Faster…
The engine of her body moans
Roars
Revs loud
Delicate speed of finger tips rush her towards the finish line
The chequered flag of release waves in front of her
Senses flash black and white
She rushes passed the finish line of pleasure
Back arches in sweet victory celebration
First place triumph …
Aug 9 2012 – 11:47pm
Posted by eroticnoire
Such a sensual, captivating read. The tension builds up well. 🙂
Thanks. i believe that anticipation is often the better part of indulgence