FFF week 16 The Touch

Her eyes closed tight at his command. Arms reaching, holding the brass headboard. He held her with words, not rope.  Her submission left him breathless,  hard as stone. 

Match to wick, candle to liquid, liquid to skin, skin to fire, fire to liquid. Slick fluid sliding from silken lips, sweat gleaming.  Flesh slick against flesh. Hard. Soft.   Slaps,  bites.   Lips fused, delving deeply into dark moist caverns.  Moans circled them like smoke rings, invisible in the darkness.

Gasping, yearning, stretching, seeking. Cock and cunt, breast and teeth, ass and hand. Joining, separating, joining again. Lust dance, life dance, music of the world, swelling, swelling to crescendo then ….. silence.

Silence, broken by a touch.