Waking from a peaceful slumber,
I open my eyes to find him staring at me.
Remembrance of our lovemaking causes a flush to stain my cheeks.
Gently he tugs at the sheet, his eyes never leaving mine.

The whirring of the fan caresses my breast, hardening the nipple.
His eyes flash mischievously before lowering his head,
the lightness of his tongue dances along my throat,
inching its way closer, my skin tingling with anticipation.

Instead, he throws back the sheet, exposing me completely.
I gasp, try to pull back but he throws it to the floor.

I lay there breathing hard under his scrutiny, his eyes flashing with approval.
I reach out to draw his mouth to mine but he knocks my hand away.

From nowhere an old stocking appears.
I begin to protest but he silences me with a kiss,
his tongue slipping into my mouth to wrestle with my own.
I try to fight him but his deft fingers tie me securely.

He is tugging at my ankles and before long I am spread-eagled before him.
Positioning himself between my thighs, he opens me, breathing in my scent.
I squirm, try to disappear into the mattress as his breath tantalizes my skin.
Featherlike, barely touching, his tongue ignites my passion as he laps at me.

I almost swoon and now he is everywhere, the inside of my thighs,
ankles, breasts, feet and neck, licking and touching as though all at once.
I lose control screaming with passion, begging for him to take me.
Relentlessly, he tortures me for almost an hour before impaling me,
to send my mind and body to a place of ecstasy I’ve never been to before.

(c) Copyright 2015 Eva Hore

Eva Hore is a writer of erotic fiction having had over 300 short stories published in the last ten years. She has been writing short stories and novels which can be purchased through the appropriate publishers.