To many, the gesture would be perceived as coy, somewhat demure.
But, he knows better. In fact, he knows her best.
For in her downcast gaze and ebony kitten lashes and the full and parted lips rouged as red as the light which bathes her contours, he recognises the same palpable heat, the same fiery passion and dangerous darkness as the one radiating from her wantonly arched body, from the brazenly exposed and denuded sex dripping, soaking the softness of her inner thighs with its insatiable and lascivious want.
Once she meets his stare, once her eyes are transfixed by the line of his pulsating and thickening shaft, by the obvious needs of his flesh, he sees the shadows engulf her absolutely, his temptress spiralling into the carnal depths, her arms slackening, sliding down the cool stucco, her hands descending with uncharacteristic restraint to tease her slender neck, her pert breasts, the flair of her hips before grasping at each of her cheeks, spreading herself open, so wide her cunt is now lusting sweetness suspended, her secret place scarlet and gleaming and silently pleading for completion, an erotic trap and invitation to partake in their mutual pleasure and ruin, to have him devastate, to have him taste her, his mouth gorging on the succulence like a starved and growling animal, his cock piercing her with selfish urgency when his fever reaches its own maddening pitch, his fingers claiming titian tresses, his lips whispering the words of filth and seduction as he fucks her, fucks her hard and slow and deep, fucks her with measured ferocity, his glans emerging slick and angry with each greedy thrust, as he fucks her hard and slow and deep, as he takes each moan and whimper and clutch of the velvet, seizing every shuddering orgasm driven from her body without mercy, as he fucks her hard and slow and deep, marking her with the violent surge, with the seed she craves to hold forever inside her, with his kiss and his bite, with the roar of her damnation, with the sigh of her sweet name.
© Cheeky Minx