My Turn

I am behind you
Rubbing your shoulders
I feel my switch
Flip
And tell you to

Put your hands
On the table.

My voice is
Lower
Slower

Hands.
Table.
Now.

You look up at me
Smirk
Slowly place
Your hands in
Position

I move quickly
Smirk becomes surprise
Then sneer
Then grimace
And your hands
Move instinctively
To protect you
From me

I sigh
Disappointed in
Your disobedience

I reach around
Grab delicate parts of you
And pinch
And twist
And I speak again
Slowly
Against your ear

Put.
Your.
Fucking.
Hands.
On.
The.
Fucking.
Table.

You move
A bit faster
Then hesitate
Hovering your hands
Before submitting

I laugh
Oh sweetie
You’ll regret that

I take my time
Pinching
Biting
Tickling
Watching

Every flinch
Makes me
Wetter
Every sound
Makes me
Hotter

I circle you
Face you
I go for
Your throat
And watch as
You struggle
For stillness

I linger
Just a bit beyond
The space between
Fear and panic
Before letting go

The look
On your face
Makes me
Want to
Fuck you

I straddle you
Run my tongue
Around the edges
Of your lips
Sucking
Biting
And I whisper

You’re lucky
I can’t
Mark you

You’d be
A beautiful mess
Before I was
Done with you.

You look at me
Hold my gaze and
I see the shift
In your eyes

Oh really?
You say
As your hands
Leave the table
To tangle in
My hair

You tighten your grip
Bend me
My breath
Catches
And you smile
And lean in
And I realize

My turn
Is over