-- For P., who will never read this.
You'd never dreamed those vulgar words could thrill you so deeply, that you could be weakened to such a state as to lose your sense of Self, your purpose and plan. You'd never dreamed you had it in you -- to fuck like that, like a man dispossessed of his senses, a man half turned to beast.
Buttoned-up and suited and tied you walked a narrow line, unwavering. From birth to death things were planned and predicted, a career, a wife, a mortgage, two kids, a savings account you never touched, and a vacation every year to somewhere warmer, somewhere else. You'd followed the plan till the day you turned 50, till the day you met me.
In the back seat of a shared taxi in the pouring rain in stand-still traffic, I smiled and you lost all direction, all sense of time. I flattered and flirted and you felt yourself blush, something stirring inside. You clutched a briefcase, knuckles whitening, as I inched nearer on the seat, pressing my hip against yours.
The look in your eyes was fear, disbelief. Even your dreams hadn't prepared you for this, for my wet red hair, my shy suggestive smile, my palm on your knee inching higher. Your heart knocked in your chest, your blood pulsing hot, and I pressed my lips to your ear whispering words you'd never knew could stir you so.
You called your wife, guilt showing in your eyes-- you'd always been faithful, in word, thought and deed-- and followed me home in the rain. One room with crumbling plaster walls, with a table and a chair, a small stack of books and a china cup. One room with a dusty lampshade and a thin mattress on a narrow frame.
Your hands trembled at my buttons, your eyes wide and scared. I undressed you quickly, my small hands greedy and rough, knowing by instinct what you wanted; force and thrust, teeth and nails, the words that made your head swim, your world dissolve.
And you were like a virgin, scared and shy, your breath shallow, your lips dry. I kissed your mouth, your throat and neck. I lifted my dress over my head and pressed my breasts against your chest, my belly to yours. You held your breath, hands hovering in the air, afraid to move, to break the spell.
I slid downwards between your legs, took you deep into my mouth and held you there, just gently. You pulsed hard and hot, still holding your breath, uncertain of your ability to contain yourself, unsure of what to do next. And so I sucked and licked, my lips clamped tight, my teeth barely scraping, my tongue stroking, urging you on.
Your hips bounced slightly by reflex as I fed on you. You caught your breath as my throat opened, your cock sliding deeper still. And you grunted and moaned, your eyes wide and wild, your fists clenched tight, enraptured and weaked by my clever young mouth.
