If I move I will hurt him. It will cause him pain, possibly
make him bleed. I don't want to do that. He knows I don't want to do that. I
know that he knows and he knows that I know that he knows.
I am stuck, I am at an impasse. I can feel the flame of the squeal
bursting to get out of me. I would not have to force it, all I would have to do
is to open my mouth, allow my throat to relax and it would reverberate around
the room. I cannot do that. The children are in the next room. The tension within
me lies like an electrified solid lump of concrete in my stomach. Helpless, I
can do nothing about it. I know that, he
knows that.
It is not an unpleasant sensation, it is really rather nice
in a very strange, weird, wet kind of way. It tickles slightly and arouses me
at the same time. The squeal is now demanding release but I can't do that. I
know, he knows.
My breathing is laboured and intense. Our eyes never break
contact, like light sabres in some kind of sci fi Mexican stand-off; the first
one to blink loses. This is not sex, this is war, but if I move I will hurt
him. With an evil grin he keeps slurping, and licking and nibbling. My upper
torso is squirming and flailing wildly on the bed as I shove my fist as far
into my mouth as I can to prevent any sound escaping.
God damn it I hate it when he does this. God damn it I love
it when he does this. I want him to stop, I need him to continue. Conflicting,
battling emotions. The civil war between my senses, by brain and my now slick
pussy, rages.
With a loud pop, like someone uncorking a bottle of wine he
takes my big toe out of his mouth. I exhale and deflate, smeared across the
sheets in relief and disappointment.
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I tried to figure out what was happening, but only knew when I read the last sentence. Brilliant!
ReplyDeleteRebel xox
Rachel,
ReplyDeleteThat's what I find so intriguing about your writing; I am now always waiting and anticipating the explanation, final comment, twist that you give. I've read some other people trying to do this, and they always end up with a plot hole or not making sense when the "twist" is anything but coherent. Your writing and explanations are always spot-on and clever.
I was desperately trying to work out what they were doing. I had every explained to me, but nothing told and that's very clever.
And it's a nice short story; you've explained a scene in a tight way.
I do love your writing; have a wee drinkie! Well done! :)
Well done! here I thought all this time he was eating you out, only to find out he was devouring your toe ;)
ReplyDelete~Kazi xxx
I admit I was confused, especially with the reference to making him bleed but then a damn good kick in the face could do that! Keep me guessing and wondering right up to the end.
ReplyDeleteMollyxxx
Ah the dangers of foot play. Any lover of mine risks an accidental foot to the face when touching my feet if I'm not properly relaxed. That squeal would have not been held back by me!
ReplyDeletexo Mina
I have to say I'm not a fan of feet... but you make it sound so enticing I'm half tempted to try.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant as ever, your writing leads and cajoles us to a typically unpredictable ending.
Play time is a wonderful thing, especially if you are held to the position you cant scream for some reason. Thank you for this wonderful piece.
ReplyDeleteOh see my feet, yeah no touchy at all. Period. I won't hold back the mule kick. But this sounds wonderful for someone who does like it..
ReplyDelete