Dust clings to my skin in the workshop. Tabouret digs into my ass. Luette’s words echo—perfection or shatter. But it’s her face on that photo that haunts me. Marion’s tears mid-orgasm. Fuck, my cock twitches. I need her. Heart pounds. Hands shake. I unzip my jeans. Pull it out. Hard already. Grip tight. Stroke slow at first. Feel the veins pulse under my calluses. Her scent lingers in my mind—sweat, pussy, that wild laugh. Faster now. Balls ache. Imagine her thighs parting, wet slit begging. Cum spurts hot on my belly. Weak. Lonely. She’s taken my fire. I curl up in the grit, spent but starving. Saturday. Belvedere. I’ll go. Balls deep into this madness.
Mistral whips my face on the crag. She’s there, perched like a goddess on the cliff. Eyes lost in blue. I sit close. Silence thick. Then I wrap her from behind. Her small hands in mine. Tiny, perfect. I spill my roots—parents gone, stones in my knee like lovers’ marks. She melts back. But the photo burns. “Explain the tears.” She dodges. Blues, PMS lie. Fuck it. Her finger traces my lips, beard, then grabs my crotch. Hard instant. We chase down the trail. Gazelle legs flying. I catch up. She jumps rock—slips me. Thorn rips my palm. She plucks it, drags to sea. Knees-deep in icy waves. Sucks salt from my thumb. Hot mouth stings. Undoes me. Fingers cold on my shrunken dick. Swells fast. Grabs seawater, spits on my shaft. Swallows deep. Salty glug, her throat tight. Waves lap calves numb. Horizon endless. I grip her hands. She shivers. Not tamed.
Awakening in the Dust
Car ride: her mouth on me at red lights. Tongue swirls head. I grip wheel white-knuckled. Home—icebox flat. Hands freeze her tits. She squeals, chases with cold shower. Laughs flood the bath. Splashing kids. Her bush peeks through foam. Spy: my cockhead with beret bubble. She kisses it. Slips back against me. Water laps her nipples. I knead, climb peaks. Feet blue. Lunch under quilts. Soup steams. Pears juicy. Strip him bare. Torso glows golden hour. Muscles flex spooning. She stares—busted. Blush hot. Pulls quilt. Fucks my eyes first. Then me on her. Skin glue. Cock slides deep. Slow grind. No rush to cum. Hold her sighs. Legs lock. Breathe her in. Drift asleep tangled. No peak. Just us.
Morning. Note: market run. Cock tents sheets. Coffee brews. Her scent on sweater hugs me. Window cracks cold air. See her climb stairs, bags swinging. Panic hits. This need—too raw. Swallows my stone soul. Grab shit. Bolt down. Bump her. Eyes wide. No words. Door slams. Street swallows me. Heart races forbidden thrill. Touched the untamed. Kept the shards. Secret pulses hot. No one knows. Mine alone.