This is the way he said he wanted her: natural, raw, and wild. Wild bush. Natural pits. The tattoo that snaked across her ribcage and writhed beneath his tongue. This is the last place he fucked her while his wife slept upstairs. He didn't care then. Why should she now? She wouldn't put her wild away.
She ground her palms into her swollen eyes while the stone steps dug into her ass and her back. He would see her and stop. He would see the words "fuck me" on the wall and he would obey. It was his turn to obey.
The door opened. She knew his gait as well as his schedule; knew it was him that climbed the stairs. She said nothing as he approached. Nothing when she knew he saw her. Nothing when the heel of his shoe scuffed her hard nipple as he stepped up over her body.
She knew his gait. It didn't slow until he unlocked his apartment, opened the door, stepped through it to his his safe world and locked it behind him.
She said nothing today.
There is always tomorrow.
Beautiful words for a sad moment.
ReplyDeleteI love the image of his heel scuffing against her hard nipple
so intimate in its dismissal.
well done.
thank you for inspiring me to write.
Thanks so much... your comments always mean so much to me. Yeah, I stayed in the dark as usual, but it felt nice to be inspired. Thank you for nudging me to write.
DeleteBeautiful piece!
ReplyDeleteLove this line: She wouldn't put her wild away.
Thank you, Measha, for your kind words. So pleased that you stopped by.
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