Tender gangster

Naked bodies look like porcelain (mature)

"Did you know that with careful treatment, porcelain can last up to a thousand years?"

After Porsche's fascination with calligraphy, you don't find it surprising that, in the end, you travelled to Jingdezhen, the porcelain capital of China. And now you are standing in the middle of a cozy porcelain shop and Porsche, with an expression of absolute delight in his eyes, is holding an artfully crafted cup in his hands. The boiling-white porcelain is painted with flowering trees, and two swallows are flying in the sky, striving for each other. Then your beloved puts the thing to his cheek and, licking his lips, says confusedly:

"When we make love with only a narrow moonbeam, our naked bodies look like porcelain."

Porsche's words cause a quiet chuckle, which, of course, is not in vain.

"Why are you laughing?" Porsche returns the cup to the shelf. "Don't you believe me?"

"Mmm... I guess we're both a little more tanned than porcelain, aren't we?"

"Hah, that's not what I'm talking about.

"Uh-uh?"

Porsche picks up the cup again, carefully covering it with his fingers:

"Porcelain is so smooth, fragile and delicate. Sometimes it seems to me that you touch me as if I'm about to break into small pieces and they will scatter all over the bed."

Can't hold back another chuckle:

"Oh, yes! Especially at first, when everyone thought I was punishing you. In my opinion, everything was flying to smithereens there, we didn't even notice how we were ruining the furniture and tearing each other's clothes. Have you forgotten?"

Porsche teases jokingly and gently objects:

"But it happened in a different way. And it happens now."

You can't argue here. And although time has not diminished your ardor, you rarely, unless you have to see each other for a very long time, pounce on each other like hungry tiger cubs on prey.

You know: Porsche is not perfect. And you're certainly not perfect either. Individually, you are far from perfect. But next to each other, everything changes. His audacity and boldness to talk to you honestly, on equal terms, initially most of all bribed your by no means idle interest in him. And at the same time — his always timely shoulder and "I'm on your side." And the fingers gently patting your hair at times when you especially need his tender side and comfort.

And for all this — what do you get in return, my Porsche?

Things have been tense for the last month. And a trip to China is an opportunity to distract yourself and release all the tension. Tonight, you both need each other's tender side. He doesn't protest at all when your lips let go of him and you push Porsche in the chest, slowly forcing him to lie on his back. You hover over your beloved teasing you with the tip of his tongue. He runs his hands over your thighs, sees how your thick eyelashes flutter. The proud, straight line of your chest, opened shoulders and your long, flexible arms. Everything is so similar to what Porsche saw that evening at the gas station, when he boldly and casually pulled off your expensive watch. You bend down to kiss him again: slowly, licking the side of his lips and penetrating into his mouth, and it's so sweet. Even too sweet. And so fragile.

It amazes you that your kisses can be so different. Sometimes they are hungry and demanding; sometimes playful, fleeting and accompanied by a wide satisfied smile; sometimes lazy and sweet.

And sometimes they are timid, cautious, like then, for the first time, on the pier, as if you are really not sure where this touch with your lips will take you, and therefore you are balancing on the edge of caution and desire.