The Night Before I Knew Him
I sink down, every inch stretching me, filling me.
Schlk. stckly.
shlk— wet.
shlk – messy.
His head hits the shelf with a hollow thunk. His throat works as he groans, raw. "Jesus."
I moan against his mouth, but Idon’t kiss him. I just pant against his lips. "You're– uh–still so– ah– fucking hu–ge."
And then I move, rocking slow at first, hips grinding, letting him feel how drenched I am.
Squlch. Schlk. Squlch. The rhythm steadily grows faster, and sharper, and the shelves starts to rattle behind me —clatter-clnk-clnk—with every thrust.