An erotic short story, in just 250 words.
* * *
A game, with higher stakes...
Have I scored enough on you? Or you for myself?
Stick or twist.
Stay satisfied, perhaps, but playing safe. Or go further, higher, deeper, faster, harder...
Closer to bust.
Your breath on my breasts.
"Stick?" You offer.
"Twist." All the fucking way.
Suckle, my man, my baby. Sensations flood, engulf, as you feed on my swollen, sensitive nipples. Close to orgasm by your lips alone. Breathing twists. Shallow, hard, soft, quick...
A gasp. "Twist!"
Swing my legs over your shoulders.
Stick yourself inside.
A whisper. "Twist."
Grab my thighs, held together. Twist, screw, push, thrust... pump!
Twisting my innermost on you. Round you. Until...
My hands twist the sheets in sweet, sharp torment. Body contorts, as if to be free from you, but resists. Wanting you inside until finished.
Spurty. Twitchy. Dribbly.
Twist from you. Your turn to lie. Mine to ask.
Take your hard cock, palming delicious stickiness. Slippy blend of us coating it. Twist it in my palm, let my tongue curl round the tip, down the shaft. Not stopping until it's clean, my saliva replacing the...
Your involuntary shudders as my lips kiss dry taut, trembling hot skin.
A moan. "Twist... "
A final grip, curving my fingers on trigger-happy nerves. My mouth over you.
Twist over your pubes. Feel your balls, full, hot.
And let you flavour my tongue.
Sweet stickiness twisting down my throat...
- - - - - - -
This was my first attempt for the first round of Alison Tyler's Smut Marathon, which I eventually rejected in favour of 'Twist Of You...' (my third attempt) but which, in hindsight and deference to comments from a few others afterwards, I wish I had used instead. But there you go...
You can see the second attempt at my other blog: