[Two posts in one day. I’m a machine. No idea where this one came from…]

She almost gasped out loud when his hand first touched her shoulder. She’s not completely sure that she didn’t. At least a little.

She knew he was behind her. She knew it was coming. Yet, the knowledge did little to really prepare her.

It had been a long time since she had felt the humanizing touch of a man. Too long. Nine months? More?

When his other hand reached around and grabbed the bare skin of her arm, she moaned. She tried not to. Even as it escaped her mouth, she tried to get it back.

She couldn’t remember ever being so keenly aware of her own flesh. Like tiny pleasure explosions going off. She wished his hand was bigger so that more of her skin could enjoy the sensation.

And his hands were strong.

She had always suspected that she’d enjoy being controlled. She had wanted to ask for it with every man she was ever with. She never did.

For a brief instant she wondered what in her upbringing or past experiences made her enjoy the feeling of submitting this much. Then he moved her forward.

She instinctively stopped moving so that his pelvis would run into her from behind.

It worked.

“Come on…” He said. It was slightly above a whisper. His deep voice sent a charge down her spine.

He could have talked her into absolutely anything.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her pulse quickened.

The hand on her shoulder moved her exactly the way he wanted her to move. She didn’t resist. At all. Not that it would have done any good.

He turned her around.

His eyes locked on hers. She felt like she was going to melt. She wanted to.

As he put his hand on her head, she truly felt like she might explode.

He pulled her head down…

“Watch your head,” he whispered, as he guided her head in through the back door of the police car.

As he closed the door behind her, she knew it would be a long time before she’d feel the touch of a man again.

0 thoughts on “Touch

  1. Neil: Thanks, man! And I was eating chicken. Not even chicken with weird spices or anything.

    judi: We shouldn’t speak of… the shirt. :)

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