always ansley

What You Want
March 21, 2012, 7:50 pm
Filed under: Erotica


The bar is dark. I begin to appreciate the minor details after three drinks. And she has been stealing glances. Every single movement is deliberate. By five or six, I meet her stare.

My body is pressed between hers and the wall, her hand wrapped tightly around my delicate throat. I am only speaking in vowels, short gasps escaping from my slightly parted lips. The room downstairs is crowded, but darker. Much darker. The light above the pool table glows and all the noise of the game underscores the thrill of our unexpected encounter.

And just when her grip loosens, and she begins to turn away from me, I take her by the arm and force her back against the wall where I had been trapped. Dizzy from the choke and the whiskey still strong and sweet on my breath, I lean into her, hard. In that very moment, it all becomes tangible. The dull ache I had been carrying inside of myself since the last time we had spoken; I can feel it begin to well up inside of me to the point where I swear that the room is about to explode around us, but we stand there and we continue our wanting, unaware. To hell with all reason and with being respectful. This did not have to make sense, we did not have to make sense.

I close my eyes and I can feel her everywhere, a tiny burst of electricity in each touch. My hands are on her belt, they are tugging at her zipper. They become frantic and insatiable. I can feel the very familiar urgency, the need to be inside of her. And then I am, fingertips teasing her, thighs already warm and soaking wet spread farther apart and are beckoning me even closer. Her back arches and falls flat against the wall as she bucks her hips back and forth, begging to be fucked harder, deeper. Her knees are weak, I can feel her body shaking underneath my own. My mouth is on hers, I bite down on her bottom lip. I crave her.

Feeling her come close, I withdraw myself. Take a step back.

“Is this what you want?” It was a simple question.

“Yes.” With a simple answer.

She takes a fistful of my long, brown hair, and she pulls me back into her.

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