The Contortionist

She never tires -never ceases to amaze
Or maybe does not even notice that she does so
In each moment she is effortless
Bare
And certain of all things- I cannot know
If I am the intended witness to her living theater
Or just awestruck bystander
Wide eyed looking on as the scene allows itself to play
I am bound up, arms pinioned behind my back. I am on my belly on the carpet looking up with so many questions that I can not speak, the gag set tight behind my teeth, upon
My tongue
Hannah with a man standing behind her
His wide brown hands that can almost encircle her waist
And she is not small-no little girl-no little thing
The slightest pressure- the urging of his hands alone
And she is lowering at the waist
Blond hair falling down until it brushes the carpet at her feet
Her back
A wide and silver highway- the open road
I can only struggle against the ropes-she has tied me tight-only scream against the gag which muffles me as I am treated to the sight of his rising cock above the hills of her offered ass. Dark mahogany, the most beautiful cock that I have ever seen rampant between the thighs of a French piano man. And I am jealous of him as I am jealous of her
To hear Hannah moan as the head of that prick
Drops from sight
As it finds the darkness between her white thighs-cleaves her
Fills her heals her
And then her back flexes-her hips shift and move
Her head rises up between her own thighs
Hannah takes his balls in her mouth
As he groans and fucks her

blind