I kissed her face, pulled her away from the wall further and then slammed her body against it even harder. I enjoyed the sensation of the hot air escaping from her mouth onto my face. I thrusted my groin into hers again and waited for the sounds of pleasure to rise. She groaned and beckoned for more. I wanted to slam her into that wall just to find out if she was even capable of saying stop. A crack even developed in the plasterboard. I remembered having to tell myself to settle down. I didn’t want to break my new toy. I don’t know how many times I pushed her against that wall but I do know she didn’t object to any of it.
And I never noticed when my other hand found her bottom. It’d become buried somewhere inside the cleft. I extracted it and placed it above her left breast. I unclenched my other and let go of her blouse, smoothing its creases across her chest. I placed my hand under the breast so that the fabric hugged its form tightly. I stared at it for a while, admiring it, especially the bit where the nipple altered the cloth’s shape ever so slightly. What a magnificent thing that nipple was, perfectly designed to attract a mate. A mate had certainly found it. One was making use of it. One was taking the time to appreciate its perfection.
She opened her eyes and looked down at me quivering. “What are you doing?”
She shuddered. “It’s working.”
She began to wriggle. I moved in closer and said to her softly, “Don’t move.”
“Why? Are you going to torment me like this all day?”
“Don’t speak either.”