by Eraelabryn on Thu Feb 23, 2012 8:51 pm
She could hear it, the sound of him downstairs. Better yet to hear it nestled so warm, so safe in those sheets scented by him. Low thing, the moan that slipped from her lips, as sore thighs moved within the confines of the silken wrappings, sheets that soothed aching muscles, bruised skin where His hands had marked so sweetly only the night before. Near kittenish, she turned her head, let eyes close and just listened, wrapped up in sensations that proved the dawn had awakened to find her here. Sated and purring, bruised and worn. Cheek nuzzled pillow before she found the presence to move, to let feet find the wood of floor, and then to pull her body upwards, each motion, however slight awakening soreness to a brighter light, a bolder claim. Blush found itself to cheeks, as she wrapped silk sheet around her, like blossuming flower, and with that she crept down the line of stairs, softer then a whisper's kiss to lover's ear.
Down she went, and with that, her conviction grew. Amazement as she found herself stunned to silence, the perfection she had believed within him, flaws and all only brought about to a higher purpose, a more stunning calling. There he was, bare as the day he was born into the world, the lines of his back, oh how the muscles moved and shifted, how the buttocks showed the very power of the form.
Stunned, her face rested to doorframe, her heart stopped within the very chest, growing so large it near pained her, so full of love, and admiration. White and hot, the frothy liquid spewed up His forearms, the wickedness of catching him in such an act! Calloused fingers to often embracing sword, found themselves stroking over milky smooth shimmering surface, rolling over the eyerim of it, so well it was known to him. Polishing the very tip, rubbing around and around it, pulling fingers in close circle up and down. Could she believe it? to bear witness, to watch, her lips parting, her thighs growing wet with her own desire, her deepest aches, ones she dared only to dream about seeming fufillled.
Gasping, oh she gasped, nipples so budded they near poked from the silk that bound them to breasts, jiggling globes of flesh that with each rise of breath within screamed "I love him. I want him. He amazes me.." Trying still to attempt to quiet it, as she watched like vouyer to some miracle being created, being crafted. Watched how his hands worked it like the Master He was, no, like the God he was, aware of each touch, claiming the very thing within hands like it was clay, and he was the one who would form it to substance worthy of use.
She heard the liquid, the sloshing heat that filled the room it seemed, even if there was no way it "could." The scent of it rising upwards, filling her nostrils, filling her mouth, claiming her little sex deep within, as if the scent itself bore substance, could move flesh. To watch, how eyes consumed her darkest need fufilled by Him.
He turned. Those eyes wide with shock, shame at being caught, but then that slow smile that made love feed itself, renew itself, as he lifted up that thick soapy decanter. White suds from the soap ran down powerful arms, slipped to kiss the elbows, sloshing had made stomach wet and with that voice came from him, rumbled from the lines of those lips.
"What the hell is wrong with you,never seen a man do the dishes? Pass me those plates there...and after that, this floor really needs swept..where's the broom?"