[Passionaria]

~The edge~
Something in my soul, called me to you, as we sat cramped into slate blue upholstered seats, amidst the intensity of rush hour. The Bart car, was rocking rhythmically back and forth, while snaking through dark tunnels, underneath the bay. Finally delivering us safely to the other side, and onto solid ground once again. Watching you, I saw that your eyes reflected kindness, with passengers who jostled by you. Yes, kind eyes, laced with an unspoken edge of dangerous, a combination that I can't resist. As you turned looking toward me, I froze for a moment under your gaze, your eyes fixed, intent, and unflinching. Your gaze settling into me like fire, igniting a warm familiar yearning, something unspoken, something we both understood. It was this feeling that drew me to your door, pensive and craving. It was the fire in your eyes, and Carlitos playing, that pulled me through that door, and into your world.

Music blaring, I follow you like a nervous child, wandering through the museum of your life. Each room we pass through, a telling, of what lies behind those eyes. Finally arriving into the warmth of yellow, I stand before you, in your kitchen. Stand before you, quietly, with my anxiety dancing to Santana's music. Stand before you, my soft curvaceous body, bursting, into this slinky black dress. Stand before you, in my beautiful black stilettos, my body offered to you, and, to the games we will play.

My breath catches as you turn and walk towards me, silent and intent, your phrases spoken only through movement. Spin; and remove my coat. Pull me close; your arm wraps around my waist. Arm out; you dance me towards the wall. Step, step, pause Santana's music pulsing through my body. Step, step, pause my heart beating to the rhythm you have set. Step, step, pause your hard thick cock rubbing against the round of my bottom. Before I know it, I am up against the wall, hands cuffed above me, blindfolded and vulnerable, to your desires. My breath ragged, your hands everywhere.

You hands traversing my round breasts, flickering across erect nipples. Your voice, hot and sultry is whispering in my ear. Your leg opens my stance, your skilled fingers demanding access to my slick swollen flesh, and I don’t even know where my panties went. I do know my plump bare bottom is completely exposed, but thigh high nylons, and stilettos are still in place. My world begins to spin into a realm of sound, feeling, breath and desire. Yu step away from me, then I hear it, the sound of your belt, pulling from your pants, the sound of your pants unzipping and my world freezes.

I sense you walking near me, and I pull against the restraints that bind my hands, and begin whispering under my breath. My words are an irrational story woven out of fear, anxiety and desire, a story you ignore. Then, I feel the first sting of leather hot against my fleshy bottom, and I grow silent, amidst lightning. Each strike you deliver reverberating, not only across my skin, but across my soul as well. This pain, something I am not unfamiliar with. Years of Ballet training taught me to weave pain and beauty into art. My learning now offered to you, through hot, swollen, red flesh, of your making. My rational mind disintegrating into pointed desire, and all I want is for you, to fuck me. No playful little romp, I need the depth of your passion and expertise, delivered deep into my yearning flesh, a need you sense, and oblige. Your beautiful thick cock finding its way into places I didn’t even know existed. Teasing me into madness, the type that set’s my soul free. Free from the mundane everyday existence into shimmering waves of bliss. Over and over again you playing my body like an instrument hung from your ceiling. Every atom of my being is given to you, and your music. Until all I can do is weep.