*This piece contains mature subject matter.*
Heaven. This, my heaven.
“Harder!” I yell with abandon.
I need more heaven.
My will is high as you bend me low over your desk, taking me from behind. My already pink ass made brighter as you occasionally, firmly smack my backside. My palms lay planted on the wood grain surface, absorbing the surprising warmth of your worktop. You thrust so intently my breasts bounce, nipples chafing roughly, pleasurably against the hardwood. I give into the domination. I want for nothing else.
No words. Just a shut and locked door. A quiet understanding. Today was the day. It wasn’t the late nights. It wasn’t the sly looks. It wasn’t the lingering conversations left in question marks. It was you. It was me. It was a matter of time. They say, heaven can wait. In this instance, they were wrong.
The last of the dying sun shoots its powerful rays into the windows of your office, illuminating my face as it locks into that indiscernible mask of pleasure and pain. At dusk, I burst into orgasm.
Christina Schmidt, MA