Women Seeking Women #57 - Scene 3

She came at him sideways on the page, October 26th 2009 in crisp print. Her thin fingers wrapped his wrist, guided the pen across white space and whispered filth about what he would do next. He let the first sentence land hard, hips against the table edge, thighs parted wide. Inside his jeans the ache grew slower than his grip on the pen. Sweat beaded along his spine, cooling before he could shift to free it. She watched every tremor with knowing quiet, tilted her head until her hair brushed his collar. Her other hand dragged his zipper down, the teeth giving way with mechanical clicks that echoed off silent bookshelves. She knelt, lips wet as she slid him out, and took the length of him deep enough that her throat flexed around him. Saliva slicked his skin. Each swallow drew blood to the surface, veins rising thick and dark. He wrote one filthy line, paused, pushed deeper into her mouth. She swallowed him to the hilt, eyes lifted. The page waited. He wrote again. Then came back to her heat, short bursts now, her lips sealed tight, breathing gone tight through her nose, his hand in her hair guiding the last slow thrusts. She took the finish with quiet greed, tongue stroking, drinking every pulse. She stood, lips flushed and wet. He capped the pen and slid it across the table so she could take it.