Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Herollsthecondomdownoverhisimpressivelength.

           Iplacemyhandsonmyhead,andIknowit’ssoIwon’ttouchhim.I’msoturnedon.Ifeelmyhipsmovingalreadyuptomeethim—wantinghiminsideme,likethis—roughandhard.Oh…theanticipation.

           “Wedon’thavelong.Thiswillbequick,andit’sforme,notyou.Doyouunderstand?Don’tcome,orIwillspankyou,”hesaysthroughclenchedteeth.

           Holycrap…howdoIstop?

           Withoneswiftthrust,he’sfullyinsideme.Igroanloudly,gutturally,andrevelinthefullnessofhispossession.Heputshishandsonmineontopofmyhead,hiselbowsholdmyarmsoutanddown,andhislegspinionme.Iamtrapped.He’severywhere,overwhelmingme,almostsuffocating.Butit’sheavenly,too;thisismypower,thisiswhatIdotohim,andit’sahedonistic,triumphantfeeling.Hemovesquicklyandfuriouslyinsideme,hisbreathingharshatmyear,andmybodyresponds,meltingaroundhim.Imustn’tcome.No.ButI’mmeetinghimthrustforthrust,aperfectcounterpoint.Abruptly,andalltoosoon,heramsintomeandstillsashefindshisrelease,airhissingthroughhisteeth.Herelaxesmomentarily,soIfeelhisentire,deliciousweightonme.I’mnotreadytolethimgo,mybodycravingrelief,buthe’ssoheavy,andinthatmoment,Ican’tpushagainsthim.Allofasudden,hewithdraws,leavingmeachingandhungryformore.Heglaresdownatme.

           “Don’ttouchyourself.Iwantyoufrustrated.That’swhatyoudotomebynottalkingtome,bydenyingmewhat’smine.”Hiseyesblazeanew,angryagain.

           Inod,panting.