A quick motion and she removed my shirt, leaving my work-tired chest bare
to the room, kissing me down my neck and then holding me tight. Her blond
hair fell against the cushion behind her, spreading out broadly and
contrasting with the darkness of the room. With her help we removed her
shirt and tank-top bra, leaving two small round breasts for my attentions.
She too had worked most of the afternoon and night, and our worn bodies
ached for release, for an excuse to be tired and dirty. I alternately
kissed her and ran my fingers across her stomach, teasing toward her
breasts until finally catching them with my mouth, one by one, adoring and
worshiping her with every motion.
Our pants huddled together in one little mass at the foot of the sofa,
liberating our bodies and letting the sexual tension build higher. She
rolled me over onto my back and moved to the floor, deftly taking me into
her mouth and edging me slowly on, the black and white images of the TV
reflecting on the ceiling and across her smooth back. I wanted her, wanted
her next to me, holding me, pushing me, being tough and charming. She was
strong, in control of the situation and I was being controlled by her
desires, her breasts heaving with her respiration and her legs slowly
beginning to shake from excitement.