Keep writing

[Re****]

Rejuvenated after a night of making love, I felt rested.
I had no physical energy left in me but my soul, my spirit was the fullest it had been in years.
I could hear a shower running just beyond the wall as I laid in bed still nude, barely covered with no longer crisp white sheet.
Hot Arabian sun was fighting its way through a gap in the window d***s.
Suns rays’ velvety warmth kissing the curve where my bum met my thigh.
He was no longer within, or near me.
Heavy drops of water I could hear, were telling a tale of last nights sins.
Sins he can not wash away.
Nor does he want to.
I raise and begin to gather my thoughts.. recollections of lustrous night I endured.
Slipping my arms into his shirt I miss-button it, my thoughts are too many and distracting from the task of dressing up.
I pull up the chair.
Another recollection creeps in: “the chair I soaked with my white nectar yesterday, just before he carried me over to the wall in front of the mirror.. ough, I can not think straight!”
I sit in the armchair, bending my left knee upwards and the foot supporting itself at the edge of the seat. My right leg stretched out under the table.
I open my laptop and app of notes, I begin to type.
No structure, just a flowing stream of reminiscences from last night, of everything he did to me.
Everything I was afraid to try but submitted to him anyway.
Immersed into the screen making sure I note every detail, every feeling, every gasp of air.
“Keep writing” - i heard his masculine husky voice in my right ear.. I did not hear him approach.
His left arm wrapped around my shoulder slipped through the miss-buttoned shirt, cupping my right breast.
His right hand sliding down toward my still engorging lower lips..
‘can I do this?’ - Internally I’m asking myself, wondering if I can maintain my focus on the task of writing.
I get my answer shortly as his right palm is now cupping my entire gender and his two middle fingers slip inside me as though he’s hooking me..
In and out, in, out, again and again…
“you’re so wet” - he states the obvious.
I turn my face away from the screen and meet his lips by my right shoulder…
“Keep writing?” I ask, looking into his piercing brown eyes..
And with a heavy exhale I ask him; “How can I darling?”