City Of Need

2 💜 Trinity

We follow you down the corridor. I glance at her, and she's already looking at me. She smiles, tenderly. Her perfume is rich, but not overpowering, and I feel the pull of her magnetism. How do women get to be like that? Maybe she was born that way?

Her hand finds mine, and I lace my fingers in hers. Her left hand and my right one, binding together easily. As if they already know what to do.

In the living room you indicate the sofa, make another three gin and tonics, without asking what either of us wants, and hand us one each. Then you sit down on the chair opposite, and swirl the glass in your hand, as the ice clinks.

You start up a conversation, which she picks up on, and pretty soon words bounce between you, like a tennis game, as I watch. After a while another gin and tonic appears in my hand, now onto my third, I feel it running through me. Warming me up, calming me down, as the conversation between you continues, and I watch on like a child.

Neither of you comment on my quietness, and so I don't feel awkward. I just listen, and watch your body language. Is she mirroring you, or are you mirroring her?

I am somehow thigh to thigh with her now. She must have moved closer to me. I feel her heat through my thigh, and I look to you. You're smiling, relaxed. Have you noticed how close she is? Is this ok?

You smile at me, the left side of your mouth quirking slightly higher than the right, letting me know it's ok. You don't tap your finger on the arm of your chair, indicating I should go to you, and so I stay where I am.

Her arm is now looped over the back of my neck, resting in front of my shoulder, her nails lightly scratching the side of my arm. I lean in closer, and closer still. Till my head is on her chest, listening to her heartbeat, as she speaks to you.

The beat of her heart is slow and steady, it tells me that she wants me. I move closer to it. Feeling little, warm, safe, as she toys with the hem of my dress, while laughing at your jokes. I close my eyes, feel her kiss the top of my head.

I blink my eyes open, to see you looking at me, you're still smiling, still letting me know it's ok to be this way...with her. You look from her, to me. You seem happy watching me. I so want to make you happy.

She crosses her other arm across her body, her fingers plucking gently at the hem of my underwear. I hear her heartbeat increase, matching mine as she plays with me. I feel the pull of her on me. The alphaness of her, as my thighs fall a little open, my dress riding up.

She strokes her nails on my arm, then moves to my ribs. Tracing them, as if she's sculpting them, sculpting me, making me into her little doll.

Everywhere her fingers touch me, feels branded, with her invisible marks. She's like a witch, hypnotizing me. Is she trying to take me from you? Can you feel her doing it?

But no, you're still smiling. Watching. Assessing. As the room goes quiet, but for the music, and the alcohol buzzing through my brain.

I become her doll, under her spell, sinking further into the sofa, and into her.

Her touch is different to yours. Sensual, cunning. It entices little gasps and moans, from my mouth, as her fingers explore my stomach, and my honey soaks my pussy.

She makes little humming noises, as she traces me, mapping out the places that make me moan, as I make a memory of the places on me that make her hum.

My back arches of its own accord, as she scratches, caresses, and finds all the places she wants to own. I find myself submitting to her completely. Under her spell, I feel like I'd follow her anywhere.