A Drabble Thing
“Rose, please.” Peter tugged at the tie binding his wrists to the headboard.
Rose dragged her tongue up the inside of his thigh. He arched, desperate to have her tongue move, to have her mouth a few inches further up his body. “Please what?”
He could feel her breath ghost across his penis, and it twitched in response.
“Make love to me. My Rose,” he whispered.
She shifted, her breasts brushing against his erection as she moved. She held his gaze as she straddled his hips, as she slid onto him. “My Peter,” she whispered.
And then she kissed him.
Rose dragged her tongue up the inside of his thigh. He arched, desperate to have her tongue move, to have her mouth a few inches further up his body. “Please what?”
He could feel her breath ghost across his penis, and it twitched in response.
“Make love to me. My Rose,” he whispered.
She shifted, her breasts brushing against his erection as she moved. She held his gaze as she straddled his hips, as she slid onto him. “My Peter,” she whispered.
And then she kissed him.