Very soon you will have passed beyond thought, beyond
movement, beyond breath. But there's something there still, some sliver of
sensation tethering you to the earth. For now.
Something like Marian's hands on your arms, pressing
you down as Marian's lips press hundreds of tickling kisses to your ribs. But
something also from you, something awoken, something crawling lightly under
your skin with it's hundred feet, scurrying along your nerve endings looking
for a way out. You feel the little, creatures, scamper to your fingers, dart
back around under your palms and run up the blue veins inside your wrists.
Biting and nibbling and it makes your hands jerk and your fingers flex and
reach out and claw the air.
And you want to spit it out, not the little clambering
critters their flickering feet setting your nerves alive, you want to spit out
the words, throbbing in your brain behind your eyes, you want to throw them
out.
'Just fuck me already.' Less than that. 'Fuck me.'
There
is no reply, not that you expected one, since you haven't spoken the words yet
and anyway Marian's mouth is full of your cock, Marian's tongue unable to form
words when it is weighed down by your dick.
Those
lips can't move in and out, can't speak, when they are stretched around you.
The last anchor that you have to the earth, the day outside spirals and drains
away.
The
only noise is the hum coming from Marian's throat, and you thought you had
stilled noise, stopped it? The little creatures, flap their wings in alarm, in
anticipation, take flight and swoop down your arms and legs, turn a majestic
circle and glide up into your stomach guided there, called home, by the glide
of Marian's soft tongue.
Was
there another noise? The soft, obscene, the fucking disgusting slap of Marian's
lips going up and down on your dick. The pornographic slurp on your cock. Your
prick only kept in Marian's mouth by the lightest of suction, threatening to
fall into the air for a second and then greedily dragged back into the hot,
what? Cave, cavern, crevice, hot red mouth again.
It's
clear, Marian has found a way to move the whole room, in and out by his mouth,
you lay there still, his world moves under you.
The
tickle of Marian's hair on your thighs, and graceful smooth rhythm, soon, when
you can think again you will wonder who he practices on, and it is the
sensation under your skin, all the feeling in the world crashed into the space
between your legs, and fuck. And what exactly where you two doing all this time
that the downy fuzz of Marian's lips wasn't on your dick, that knowledgeable
tongue wasn't branding something dirty on your skin?
There
is so much past you could have spent, that stupid movie you watched last week,
that fucking boring football game when you were just staring at the TV and not
paying attention, ten seconds later you couldn't tell someone who had played
that game at fucking gunpoint.
Those moments, hours, that
time could have been spent with Marian your hands grabbing the sheets and his
cheeks hollowed sucking you into his mouth, Marian's hotmouth. His fingers,
Marian's hardfingers tickling the skin inside your legs. His nails, Marian's
sharpnails scraping through the hair on your stomach
"Fuck." Nearly
got it out.
He doesn't stop, or pause,
speeds up him really. And he has to slow down, he has to actually stop, you
would stop him if your fingers weren't squeezing the sheets weren't trapped in
a maze of cotton, and what is the way out of this labyrinth?
Marian's mouth, dark red dragging the sensation, the little
creatures, out and in and upward and his finger sliding into you twisting and
pressing in time with Marian's mouth and Marian's lips, and the sensations, the
squirmy feelings under your skin there, are all traveling down from your scalp
and up from your toes, and meeting in the middle and rushing around crashing
into each other, and the shuddering, the feelings are crossing over each other,
so you can feel Marian's lips, so busy, so practiced, so strong on your cock, you
can feel them in your hair, his tongue hotsmoothwetgrasping is flicking across
your thighs, but it's not it's on your dick and you are not moving the world is
spinning under you and time is not marching forward on relentless hundred
thousand tickling feet it has frozen and you, your heart is thudding and your
blood is pounding around and it's so much effort for the blood to move, so
heavy and thick in your veins your back arches, is a perfect bow off the bed
and there is nothing holding you down now, only your head thrashing side to
side on the bare mattress, and what happened to the pillow? And you pulled the
sheets out of their perfect hospital corners and are you pulling the fabric
over you hiding your body and fleeing the sensation even as Marian's fingers
are opening you up to it? And spread your legs as well, your knees pressed to
the bed, mattress, cloud, cotton under you, your hips up offering yourself. You
should hide your face, wanton slut.
And it's all gathered up in
a tight fiery ball this feeling, like it's burning, little creatures burrowing,
boring into you skin and it is almost impossible for you to open you mouth to
take a breath to whisper fuck me.
