Come home exhausted and sore. Long day, right? Every fucking day is too long when common decency is dead. But you’re cute, you know? Even when you’ve got a big pout on that bottom lip. Push it out and wet your eyes. Look up while I look down.

I can take your mind off things. Always do.

Both hands on your shoulders, thumbs just above your collarbones. Push you against the wall. Drop the keys. Kick off the shoes. Let me slide my lips along you doll. First on your neck. Up to your earlobe. Bite and pull and make you gasp when my hand yanks up your skirt and finds your warmth.

Already dripping like honey over my fingers. Sweet and viscid between my knuckles. Just a tease, pulling both sides of your vulva back so that I can make your little huckleberry jump. Let me rub it with my thumb. Let me feel you moan and breath roughly against my neck.

Get in the room. Get on the fucking bed.

Top off. Lay on your stomach. Bra unclasped. Lights out, candle lit.

Let it get warm. Hot as the cusp of your embrace.

Sitting on your thighs. Pour hot wax on your back. Up your spine. Calloused fingers rubbing it in. Vanilla sandalwood. Slick massage oil pushed from your shoulder blades down to the top of your ass. Thumbs dig into your lower back, run the length of your spine, relieve the tension, breathe deep and release. Let go while I dig the knots out of your neck.

Sink into the bed. Flickering candle and Portishead. Pulse. Pound. Bare cock laying heavy against the back of your thigh. Growing while I coat your skin. Sticking to you, leaving you glistening. Let it be. My focus is elsewhere right now. Hands down to your ass. Grasping and kneading and massaging your soreness away. Honey, you know I can be gentle when called for. How you love that contrast: the same hands that’ll smack your ass until it’s black and blue giving you a soft embrace.

It’s hard to focus sometimes, when my fingers are plotting the geography of your body. Cock stiff and thick and pointing towards your entrance. Grazing it. Prodding it. Teasing it. Could slip in so easily with how fucking soaked you are. But not now. Not yet.

Just feel it there–primed against your lips. Big and thick and eager to stretch you while I work this hot oil up and down your back. Fingers digging deeper now. So much reserved tension, stored stress, relax now, babygirl, let me make you feel calm and safe. And then you know I’m going to push inside. You know I’m going to fuck you right here with the oil running down your spine. And you’re going to melt against me while I take it deep and slow.

Your fingers tugging and pulling the linen sheets as I make you take me. Hands at your hair’s roots shoving you into the pillow. God do you feel good. So soft and relaxed and fucking slick. I’ll make that ass shake and shine as I slam my heavy sack against your lips.

You’ll let me empty it inside you. All of it. An eruption of pleasure filling you up. Palms firm against your ass like they’re observing a holy sacrament. Pressing hard while my shaft convulses. Spill sticky salty sweetness like too much of a good thing.

I’ll lay on top of you, embrace you, cock still twitching inside. Warm and satisfied and glad. Too much of a good thing is exactly what you need in a world this mad.