"Roll over."Roll over." I always have loved this view of you. Wide, massive shoulders, not overly defined, but tight enough that as you turn over the play of the muscles beneath the skin is an erotic animation I could watch forever. I can trace the veins beneath your skin and the stories in each of the old scars and bruises you've collected, but instead I start at first gently, then more forcefully, to knead and rub, feeling your skin yield, your muscles give up their tension. This is when I always get my hardon, and there it is, right on schedule, full up and straining at the scratchy wool of my trousers. I press it against the side of your leg. Your wavy blond hair surrounds your profile against the pillow, and your eyes are only partly open. I climb up to straddle you, sitting on the firm round stool of your butt. |