The crease of my hips fits your hands (just so). You note this as you watch, as is your preference. Stripped down to silky skin – caramel soft on white, white sheets, I swing my hair over my shoulder and look back at you (just so). Your gentleman hands hold my ankles sweet and I shift away from you onto the bed, onto my tummy.
Side-boobs gently bulge, and my hands slip between my legs (just so). I rock on my clit. I dig the soft, firm edge of my knuckles into the growing nub of my passion until my voice catches, making your heart skip a beat (just so).
You smell me now, this wet that’s been waiting for you. My panting breath catches in a moan and your head drops back. I am here, splayed, spread, juiced-up for you. I feel the air cool on my ass compared to the heat dripping between my curled fingers. You lightly brush my ass cheeks with your lips. I lift my ass (just so). And each time you brush, I lift with a deeper moan. My arms are taut from the strain of my personal-public pleasure; this show is for you alone.
My gasps strain for you with sounds ragged like the shape of your name, like the curves of “yes” and “please.” And when you finally reach for me, it is for the crease at my hips that hooks me and pulls me up (just so) onto the wet of your mouth, the swell of your glorious hard… the slam and pound of our voracious need.
Just so.
Sweet Lover, just so.
– Lola Moi –
