On the rug

I put a lamp on the floor and sat on the dark rug in the black silk blouse and a skirt. Shoes already gone. Bare feet pointed toward the light. Bottles soft and out of focus behind me. Julien paused in the doorway the way I like, waiting for the voice. I am thirty-one. He is thirty-nine. Come here, I said. Shirt off. Then lie back. He did, broad chest, eyes up. I wanted to set my feet on him and talk until we were both desperate to fuck.

I rested both soles on his stomach. Light. Warm skin. You do not grab unless I say, I told him. Yes, Anouk. I slid one foot up to his chest and let him turn his head to kiss the arch. Good. Say what it does to you. He said it made his cock ache and made him want to be slow for me. I liked the sentence. I rewarded him by dragging the other sole along his ribs, gentle, a stroke not a strike.

Take your cock out, I said. Stroke once. Stop. He did. Again. Stop. His hand shook. My cunt was wet under the skirt just from directing him. I told him that, because my voice is part of the sex and I will not hide the truth in it. He groaned. Please let me taste your cunt. Not yet, I said. Kiss the feet again. He kissed every toe. I finally swung a leg over and sat on his chest, skirt up, and let him see my cunt.

Now, I said. Lick. He pulled me up by the hips only after I nodded and buried his mouth in my cunt. I braced my hands on the rug and talked. Yes. Right there. Do not speed up. I came on his tongue, silk blouse stuck to my ribs, feet planted by his ears. Then I moved down and took his cock into my cunt. I said, fuck me from below. I will set the depth. He thrust up when I asked and stayed when I asked.

I came saying Julien, cum in my cunt, I want it. He came in my cunt, eyes on mine. After, he massaged my arches while we cooled. He stayed on the rug.