He's so Fine

He's so fine.

Fine that calls to mind Paul Newman in The Hustler. With that mouth that makes yours open on a sigh, bite your lip on a moan.

Fine that makes you lean your head back, opening your neck to teasing kisses and hoping for lingering bites.

Fine that arches your back, pushing your breasts up and out. Maybe even gripping them in hard, hot hands.

Fine that spreads your legs, looking up at you with a wicked grin and a wet chin.

Fine that keeps going, long after you don't think you could possibly come (yes, come, not cum) one... more... time...

Fine that takes you to the brink and holds you there on the razor's edge of a teardrop before pushing into you one more time.

Fine that has you begging, pride gone, praying for the fall.

Fine that opens your mouth, your cunt, your ass.

Fine that rewards you for being a good girl, a bad girl. a sweet girl, a dirty girl.

Fine that punishes you for those same things.

Fine that soothes your hurts, softens your rough edges.

Fine that's warm, and a little salty, and lingers in your mouth long after the moment passes.

Fine that opens your eyes, and holds your neck up to watch yourself being taken.

Fine that tells you how wet you are.

Fine that takes.

Fine that gives.

Fine that leaves you sore and wanting more anyway. in spite of. because.

Fine that wakes you up in the dark of the night to do it all over again. slower, sweeter.

Fine that slides in behind you, slipping in on your gasp.

Fine that brushes your hair off your sweaty forehead.

Fine that covers your nose and your mouth as you scream.

Fine that wraps you in an embrace that actually does make everything better.

Fine that kisses you goodbye in the morning.

Fine that comes home to you every night.

He's so fine.