source: Urban Gypsy

...I am staring at his profile. Half hoping he will feel my gaze and turn. Smile at me. Or better yet, just stare back. I imagine I would nod and motion. A small gesture conveys my intent. Follow me. We are a few blocks to my house. His truck practically rear-ending me on the way there. Me, suddenly swerving to miss a blown out tire that I almost did not notice in time, since my attention is riveted to his hard eyes in my rearview mirror.

I drive into the garage, leaving the door up. He parks in the driveway, and I walk in without a glance in his direction. As I walk up the stairway inside, his hands are around my waist. I halt suddenly near the top step. He pushes his body into mine, urging me forward towards the bedroom. His jeans press against my back, I feel him straining against the fabric. I let my body go limp. Sliding down against his body until I lay with my head against the top stair. He is on top of me. Lips against my neck. A groan. The sound of his zipper. My dress lifted up just enough. Panties pulled down. Inside me. Moving so slowly. His breath fast in my hair, but his body tense with control. Making it last. Grind, push. And then stop. Pulse. This seems endless...


Car honks behind me. The light is green. The truck has already driven away by the time I press in the clutch, the gearshift made sticky from my wet fingers.

Source: Blonde Bohemian