Drops of glass



Wrap my hair around your hand and slide your knee between my legs. Kick my feet wide apart and push me down over the table.

Watch the sunlight sending tiny turquoise diamonds across my ass as you brush the beads aside, untie the thong and pull it roughly between my legs.

Drop it at your feet in all its sequined insignificance.

Lube, shiny and wet, picks up refracted light, showering it onto your cock, poised there as you spread my cheeks, ready to open me, ready to press in and through and deep.

Pull my head back as you lean down. Your teeth graze my shoulder. Your tongue finds the hollow of my collarbone. Your lips on my neck are vampiric, demanding, in that moment when you enter, taking what you need and giving what I want.

Now: Pressing back against you, my ass tight against your hips, grinding small hard circles against your body. 

Now: Your hands on my hips, fingernails marking me with deep crescents as you slide and thrust.

Now: The ripples start rolling down your cock as I start to come.

Now: The flood of your own release is wrung from your body by my contractions.

Wait, now. Stay. Quiet. There, pulsing slowly, moving gently, we mingle like the light streaming through the window mingles with these drops of turquoise glass.

~ by Molly Montrevoir on July 30, 2008.

3 Responses to “Drops of glass”

  1. There are curves and then there are curves. I’ve read the post and marveled at the canvas of words painted upon my imagination. “Stay. Quiet. There . . .” I want to see you write longhand. I want to see your fingers flourish pen on parchment, wield ink as if wrung from your desire, by your command, for your pleasure. I want to see the arch and curve of your letters, to hear the subtle nib caress the paper, patterns appearing, but all the while, those fingers, wrapped around wooden shaft, penning your pine. You see, Molly, when you post a picture like the one here, words aren’t necessary. When you stand as you stand, one curve dipping into the next, and the flow is as water, seamless, portion divine or divine portion, take your pick, all the words are already there. 😀

    Wonderful post, again.

  2. Beautiful, the words, the photo, everything, just so beautiful.

  3. Trée, interesting: just about a week ago I dug out my fountain pens. There is one in particular that I like. I have been dreaming of a post involving fountain pen and flesh … there are messages I would like to inscribe.

    Tess, thank you. You know that I am thrilled every time you find something here intriguing. I love your words and am humbled when mine draw you in 🙂


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