Erotica: King of Hearts by Blacksilk

Her heavy breath brushed the lobe of my ear as she leant in to kiss my neck. She smelt faintly of men’s deodorant and alcohol. Her lips brushed my skin teasingly before she nipped at me, catching me off-guard, her teeth finding purchase. She released me and grinned; I stifled a giggle. Her eyes were full of sparks and japes half-remembered.

I remembered what those eyes could lead to only too well.

I shifted in anticipation, my bare thighs cosied and comforted by the warmth of the bare duvet beneath us. She leant back onto her knees, exposing the worn-through holes in her jeans. Her delicate fingers probed under my buttocks, feeling for the hem of my too-flimsy dress.

I shifted again, this time to allow her to free the hem from my weight. Her brown eyes caught the light as she lifted my skirts, her irises seeming to shift colour like a cheap mood ring.

She pulled my skirts up my thighs slowly, letting the sheer fabric glide over my skin, her eyes staying locked to mine until the skirts reached their destination at my waist. Once they had, her eyes travelled down to fix on my shamefully bare and smooth crotch. I fancied I could almost hear the word ‘whore’ echo in her pretty blonde head, but who knows what she was really thinking?

I felt like a butterfly on a pin.

I pressed my thighs together, hiding as much of my naked slit as possible. The heat rose on my cheeks. I was enjoying this too much.

Her hands came to rest gently on my wrists, squeezing tight before quickly bringing my arms up above my head. She leant in, pressing my captured wrists into the wall above the bed, her left hand dropping to tangle in my hair as she kissed me full on the lips.

My tongue sought hers and I pressed forward into her, kissing back fiercely. My wrists tested her grasp a little but not too much. Deep down I knew that if I escaped her I would only leave myself wide open to being caught again. I didn’t want to be free of her; the fight wasn’t in me. Whatever hold she had on me physically was nothing when the mental hold she had on me was so much more. Like so many times before I was falling into submission before even really being pushed.

She leant back suddenly and, letting go of me for a moment, moved to straddle my legs. I could still feel her on my lips as I watched her. In one agonisingly slow move that in truth probably didn’t even last as long as our kiss, she pulled the tight grey vest from her body. Her beautifully round breasts quivered slightly from the movement, her nipples erect and inviting.

I took her by the waist, loving the feel of the soft skin there and enjoying the curve of her body under my palms. To me, her waist was sculpted more finely than a Rodin and squeezable beyond belief. I pulled myself forward into her body, my mouth fluttering kisses over her breasts like moth against a light bulb.

A sigh hissed out from her lips as I tasted the tip of her nipple, my tongue circling the bud slowly, tentatively, before taking it into my mouth. I sucked gently and removed one hand from her flank, running it up her body, taking the scenic route at her breast before coming to rest behind her neck.

She took that badly; a step too far, too impertinent. Her fingers tangled in my hair again, this time to pull back firmly as I lifted my mouth from her nipple. I gasped and went with the tug.

My neck now exposed, she drew a long, firm scratch down it and then under my collarbone, hooking her finger under the strap of my dress and pulling it from my shoulder. She did the same on the other side and my dress slipped down over my breasts under its own weight, exposing my chest.

She darted forward and bit me hard on the top of my breast, making me yelp in surprise. Her teeth pinched in and she sucked at the soft skin a little into the bargain. Desire fizzed and rolled in my cunt. I sighed heavily. She let go and her lips brushed over my nipple before she took another firm hold, this time on the round underside of my breast.

I wriggled, but made no move to stop her. I liked playing defiant now and then, liked to test the limits, but with her there was really no question as to who, no matter the outfit, wore the trousers. It didn’t come up in humdrum life. No sign of it showed in our ordinary friendship. But once in a while she’d decide to pull me into another world with her. A world where unspoken rules were made clear by look and touch and a knack for punishment on her part.

Here, in this world of sighs and ecstasy-as-flesh, she was king.

She spoke for the first time since we sipped drinks together at the party, since she’d taken my hand and led me giddily upstairs.

“Pass me my bag and then turn around and close your eyes. I want your hands on the headboard bar at all times. No peeking. You’re in enough trouble already….” She paused with a smile that would have fooled Red Riding Hood in a wink. I was not so naive.

“..and I’m going to enjoy showing you just how much.”

© Blacksilk

You can read this post in its original location here. Why not try more erotica from Blacksilk? Or, see more of her work, both in writing and images, on her blog Being Blacksilk.

Posted in Cliterati Magazine, Erotica, Queer Erotica and tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

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