The Mission (1)

A side glance.

Eyes slowly going half way, not completely closing.

A tongue sliding across cranberry lips.

Pulse beginning to speed up.

Did I fail to mention, a hidden hand crawling up a supple, parted thigh?

An inner chuckle escapes, with your surprised expression on your face. I did. Didn’t I?

That hidden hand presumed that it had the key to my door.

A door that I gave it access to, without it’s knowledge.

A curious digit ventures into a tight alcove.

The intake of breath was not a signal with draw.

To punctuate my acceptance, The alcove closed around the digit and drew it in further.

Releasing it momentarily, as a trail of warm essences coat’s it.

I continued to watch as two daring soldier’s replaced the curious informant.

Legs spread further apart for optimal invasion.

A strike from above landed on a sort firm mound and held it firmly as it began it’s torture of lips, teeth, tongue and spittle.

The initial invasion stormed in pushing and pulling. With no gentleness.

The mission was to capture all and torture all into sweet oblivion.

(Will I survive and do I want to? We shall see.)

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