Under a cut because it's not work-safe, though it's not all that explicit either. Beneath him, I feel his excitement by the power and depth of his strokes. I smell his musk and it makes my mouth water. His face is intent, feral; his eyes, midnight black. What I do most is listen. Listen to his panting breaths, his deep-chested groans, the stream of filthy, gutter language he saves for the bed because he knows how much it turns me on. But my favorite sound of all is that sharp... read more
