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v u l v a l i c i o u s neckface I want to ask her in for tea. Invite her over and take advantage of the warm weather, the way she wears a sweater even when it's going to be hot out. But if I pull her in with her own necktie, is it too much like strangulation? Will the heat and lack of breath choke her until she can't see straight? And does it matter if she's leaving anyway? It comes down to this: I've been obsessed with necks lately. My own, others', hers in particular. I position myself over her and stare into the paleness, feel the soft throb of blood under skin. I don't know what it means to want to bite this much, as hard as I want to. It feels dirty, hot, salty. It's a taste in my mouth that won't get out. I breathe into her instead, long and hot, my teeth just on the surface until she rises into me. This is power. And I like it. Later as she fucks me my breath turns into animal sounds, a growl every time I exhale. It sneaks up suddenly, my inability to control myself. Inches from her face, it takes all my strength not to tear into her mouth. I turn my teeth to her shoulder and she yelps with pain, so I move down to a stronger part of her arm, biting down harder but more slowly until I can resurface and apologize. She likes it. I feel hungry. But as much as there are teeth there are hands. I reach up and press down on her, hold her steady while I'm inside her. My fingers inch up to her neck as if to say, "trust me, trust me, just be here. Let me fuck you like I mean it." Even I can't say that. Only my hands, my teeth, my cunt can talk like that. |