He was endorphined, wrists cuffed and tied to the bed, his eyes open, but not focussed, though they were directed at her. She touched the places that she had hurt, played with them gently, they were hugely tender and each touch brought forth a moan, his body jerking away from her even though she knew he wanted more.
She looked into his unseeing eyes and delivered a slap to his cheek. His face flew to the side and his eyes returned to hers, focussed, strong, locked, his mouth open. She stared into his eyes, connecting him to her, wanting his mouth again and always, she kept her face impassive, his open and wanting, fast breaths through his mouth making his chest heave. She slapped him again and felt him take it, welcome it, felt it resonate from her hand through her body.
His gaze returned to her and she held it, she knew he wanted more, wondered if he would ask for more. He was silent, she turned away from him and directed her attention elsewhere.
2 comments
This installment leaves me wanting more and more. It creates a desire to be a voyeur watching the interplay between you and the boy. As in any good piece of writing i crave more.
i also wish i could understand how much of the story is real and what is ficton.
robert
robert: “As in any good piece of writing i crave more.”
Thank you for that, I’m hoping the craving will continue and you will keep coming back.
“i also wish i could understand how much of the story is real and what is ficton.”
The story is real, he is a real boy and he is really my boy. At some stage I will get him to write his version of one of the stories and you will see what he sees and feels from his perspective.
Ferns