Visitors in my bedroom.

This post is NSFP (Not safe for prudes.) 

Scotch and Suitcases


The air was dim and tasted like whiskey. I hadn’t slept well since his plane arrived and was pulling energy from the emptiness in my stomach. Raw intensity, from my veins. I wondered if it was morning yet.

I pinned him down and hovered above him, our eyes adjusting to the flickering light. He traced my collar bone and the seam of my dress. The path down the curve of my hips.

He grabbed my hair and pulled. “Come closer.”

“No.”

I watched his eyes sear into me, asking questions, wide and blue. I checked the clock. 5 a.m. I climbed off the bed.

My body seemed to know what it was doing without informing my mind. I pulled the bottom drawer of my dresser off its hinges. The sound was louder than I anticipated.

“Hannah…?”

“Stay.”

I carried the drawer into my office and slammed the door. Dumped the contents on the floor. Fragments of costumes, the past in bows and lace. I slid off my dress and readjusted my stockings. I laced up a silk corset.

When I returned to the bedroom, he was still on his back, hands above his head as if bound. He smiled. “Get  over here.”

 I stood back, snapping a photograph with my mind, blending the angles with brushstrokes. He was beautiful.

“Hannah…”

I climbed on top of him and grabbed his hair in bunches, bit his lower lip. Fingertips, fingernails. Breath. He ran his hands over the silk, cleavage, back to silk. I kissed him hard, the way you kiss someone who is flying home in the morning. Someone you will miss the most in this way, on his back. Someone you will miss most when you're thirsty.

He unhooked the top of my corset. I slapped him across the face.

“You such crazy girl.” His English slipped. Victory. I slapped him again.

His eyes sparked flames and he broke free of my arms, unleashing his pent up strength. He flipped me onto my stomach and held me down. Ran his hands softly over my ass. “You like this...” he said. He spanked me. “…crazy girl.”

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The painting in this post is by Jack Vettriano, via the delightfully devious Mr. Condescending.  If you crave more lust, Mr.C is running an ongoing 100 word competition. I can't tell you which is mine. You should also check out Adulterous Ellie. She's hauntingly sexy. In both words and reality.