His greeting has no words, only movement. I am gently pinned flat by his being and his kiss. My hands find the center of his chest and his forearms, as his find their way under my short skirt. His fingers slip into my panties, and into my wetness, and my knees go weak.
But my resolve does not.
Say my name.
So long the time in between that nothing exists between a kiss and a fuck. There is no room for additions in a house of need. It is merely the unzip of a zipper and panties moved aside. The fit of his cock in it's home. Relief in familiarity.
I am familiar.
Say my name.
He sits and I straddle. So beautiful he says and I purr. My eyelids falling heavy in lust and my head falling back, throat exposed. I continue to rock gently in his lap. He watches me lose focus as I dance closer and closer to the edge.
But everything is clear.
Say my name.
He waits until my face is in his hands, and my eyes are locked onto his. He waits until he is sure I am paying attention to his words. He waits until we've had our fill of remembering the hardness and the wetness. He waits until I believe I can wait no more.
But I believe in him.
And my name has never sounded so sweet.