I am lying naked on my bed. It’s the middle of the afternoon and it’s hot. The citrus trees outside my open window were the first distraction. They’re in full bloom, beckoning pleasurable thoughts with their strong, sweet blossom scent, gently insistent. But then just when it has my full attention, it ebbs away with the breeze through the whispering trees.
A normal person wouldn’t smell citrus blossoms on an afternoon breeze and want to fuck, would they? I mean even if they had smelled it yesterday and the day before, and the day before that? No matter. I like being this way. And it doesn’t take that long, not always. Sometimes it has made me late, yes. But only sometimes.
I did make one feeble attempt to shake it off, to go for a walk, but I blew it before I even got on my shoes. I made the mistake of bending over to reach my sneakers instead of sitting down to put them on. And bending over in that way, the same way you would when being nailed from behind, well. Naturally, in this position I felt his presence behind me, pulling me onto his thick cock, veined like a bass relief sculpture. It would have required a superhuman willpower to put that out of my mind without fulfillment, and I have none at all. He knows that about me.
I love the deviant way nudity in the dark reduces the world to breath and the ripple of muscles. And eyes. He’s always controlling me with his eyes, making me aware of every important detail, like the way the smooth sheets feel like a kind of skin when he’s taking me on them. There was a short period when he only suspected I was like this. He didn’t dare believe it.
I like all the imaginary positions, but flat on my back is very convenient. Feet flat, toes curling under the bunched up piles of bedding and thighs wide open. He hovers in between them, only moving a finger at first, just the faintest feather on the dimples of my knees while the force of his amused expression is fully felt. “Such a weak mind” he says. “You can’t even wait till I get here, can you?”
The words make me whimper, I can’t help any of it. If I had a choice I’d make him wait longer. I would tease him with indifference. But he starts getting serious with his hands and the mewls and moans and gasps always find their way out.