The Skirt

Her heels click authoritatively against the floor,
Their noise, growing louder and more clear with each step,
She’s clad in a low cut top,
Purple, with a deep running cleft,
It’s made complete with a simple, black skirt that stops a little way above her knees,
A skirt she uses to tease me with,
Tugging and playing with it as she stands just in front of me,
Lifting the curtain to the window of her heart,
A beautiful sight.

She turns around with exaggerated motions,
Boldly revealing her pale skin more,
Her fingers toy with the edge of her skirt,
Lifting them long enough to give me a rise,
Before letting go just to keep me on edge.
She likes putting on a show every other night,
Gripping the fabric at one end,
Just to let me watch how tight the other clings to her body,
Watching it outline and accentuate her petite frame,
I adore this silhouette of her body,
This devious side to her,
She knows how it makes me feel.

She intentionally presses into me,
Leaving only that thin cloth between us,
It keeps me from feeling her warm skin,
She pushes back into me even more,
Letting me feel it for a minute before pulling away.
She seduces me again,
Fidgeting and adjusting her attire,
Leaving lesser to imagination,
Raising its hem,
Every bit of exposed skin,
She knows it makes me gape in awe,
The way that she flaunts herself to me every other night,
And keeps me a spectator with bound hands,
At her mercy and a victim to her playful whims.

It leaves my eyes transfixed,
She challenges me to avert my gaze,
Daring me to not be enticed by the view she’s so generously set up,
The flitting skirt,
And gaping slit,
It pulls my attention,
Just as she did a moist fabric from underneath.
She gracefully rid herself of that stained silk,
One deluged in a distinct scent I never tire of,
She rolls it up and stuffs it in my mouth,
Using it to muffle up my pleas,
A wicked smile on her lips as she hushes me,
Teasing me still with her every movement,
The way she feeds off of my desperation,
To how she sways and twirls around out of reach,
Provoking my fantasies all the way through.

Her taste lingering wild on the tip of my tongue,
And her image, in my bewitched mind.
She gets me at attention to her every move,
And when she’s toyed with me enough,
She parts away the deep slit in her skirt,
Before making herself comfortable over me.
Easing herself gradually,
Bit by bit,
Until she has taken over every inch of me.
Her hot, heavy breath fall in my left ear,
She fills it with that one prolonged expletive,
Just what I desired and yearned for,
It sounds most satisfying when rolled off her tongue.

Her earnest hands yank away the laced material,
And she meets her lips with mine,
As her nails dig in my back,
While she rocks herself so elegantly,
Her breath becomes heavier,
And moans, louder,
As her gentle motions pick up the pace,
At the end of her satisfying moves,
She breaks into an extended, passionate kiss,
Whilst her hands hold a rough grip on my hair,
That’s the reward I’ve earned,
She whispers with an air of haughty arrogance while stroking them like a pet’s,
For being so obedient and giving myself to her completely,
Just the way she likes it.

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