I was running late. I'm very sensitive about being late anywhere, mainly because my mother is consistently fifteen minutes late. As every woman knows, you never want anyone to have the recourse to tell that "you're just like your mother." It's one of the worst statements ever uttered by humanity. Trust me.

I stood on my tiptoes to give Bear a kiss goodbye when he wrapped his long, cold fingers around the back of my neck. Melting into his hand, I found myself pressing my tongue into his mouth. To those who don't know me, and even those that know me fairly well, discovering that I'm capable of such a loss of control at inapparent stimuli might be shocking. Bear, well, Bear knows each of my little tells and manipulates them to achieve his sexual aims.

My clothes melted off onto the floor and a heavy silence filled the room, punctuated by the sounds of mouths pressed together, zippers being undone and my weak attempts begging him to let me leave so that I would be on time to meet my father for lunch.

Bear bent me across the foot of the bed in a near backbend, kissing and biting at my breasts. My eyes rolled back into my head, unable to even keep them focused on him. I was slipping further and further away and Bear was aware of each little detail of my mental state. When he finally pressed himself into my slit, which was dripping with so much wetness that it was beginning to run down my legs, he grabbed my hair and told me that I was going to be late. I believed him.

I don't have the time, memory or mental energy to describe much more than that, so I'll let a picture do the talking. I apologize for the quality, it was taken on my cell phone.

This entry was posted by Mellie, on Tuesday, January 09, 2007.