Sign Your Name (#inscribe)

In the Twitter-verse, there's something called writing prompts. The lovely, talented and oh-so-devilish Aisling Weaver has decided to revive the once-defunct Fuck Me Fridays. This weeks word prompt? #inscribe. Now, I did this one at work, where it's difficult to concentrate. But I hope you like it anyway.




“Do you want me inside you?” Your words are barely a whisper, and yet they’re as loud as if you’d shouted them in a crowded room. My pulse races and I nod slowly. Your hands trail over my flesh, causing me to flinch as you hit the sweet spot, along the back of my neck. Your lips follow, my breath coming in gasps as my cunt moistens and clenches.

I want you. Inside me. Now.

You tug me to you, kissing me carefully, teasing, biting my lips, tracing them with your tongue. “Ride me.” It’s not a command, or a request. It’s a simply stated fact. And I’m helpless to question it, or refuse.

I swing my leg over your narrow hips, positioning myself over your cock. As your head nudges me open, I sigh quietly. You fit so perfectly inside me, brushing over my g-spot, making me come almost instantly. “I’m sorry.” You grin. “I’m so sorry I’m able to make you come with one stroke. I’ll try to do better.”

Before I can even form a thought, maybe a decent comeback to your egotistical statement, your hips thrust upward, violently jerking me in the air. As I land back down, I establish the rhythm that works so well for us. I’m in control, at least that’s what you let me think. But you, with your words, you’re the puppet master, pulling my strings.

As I lean over you, sliding up and down your hard shaft, moaning, my eyes closed, I feel your hands on my cheeks. I hear your voice. “You are so beautiful when you come. I love feeling you gush all over my cock. I love making you come hard.” I clench around you, raking my nails down your chest to your groin. You gasp and then sharply inhale. My triumphant feeling is short lived however, as you thrust up hard again, making me whimper.

My hair has fallen over my face, and you brush it back, hands moving to massage my breasts. You tweak my nipples, already hard and aching for your mouth. I can’t speak, just bite my lip and throw my head back in want and need. You take one in your mouth, brushing over it with your tongue, sucking it gently.

My pussy is drenching your balls, and the sheets beneath us. Your fingers move to my clit, pressing on it rapidly, like it’s an elevator button that’s won’t light up. But I’m all lit up, and exploding all over you.

Your hands grasp my hips, adjusting my rhythm, and increasing the pace. “Come once more for me baby.” Again, not a command or request, but a fact. And I oblige, not once, not twice, but three times more. The last time, I come so violently that I collapse on top of you.

Gasping, I slide off you. “I’m sorry.” I bury my face in your shoulder. “I just need a break. And then I’ll take care of you.” My drenched pussy is still twitching in the throes of my last orgasm, and my hand moves to your still-hard cock, stroking it.

Your arms slide around me. “Don’t worry.” You nuzzle my hair, planting a kiss on top of my head.  “It’s my job to please you.” Your hands start tracing a pattern on my naked skin. I realize that it’s a heart. “Right here, with your head on my chest, and in my arms, is where you belong. We have forever for everything else.”

And as surely as if you’d carved your name there, you are inscribed forever on my heart.

©2011