She places her leg on a chair and guides my face to her and tells me where to lick and where to suck. I'm stretching my neck as she lifts beneath my chin, surrounded by her legs.
Alice- Stop, she says, pushing me away. Stripping her top and skirt. She's getting fat. Do you think I'm the most beautiful woman?
FP- I do, I say.
We're going through the motions. The next forty minutes is spent with me trying to please her with my tongue until my mouth is dry and sore.
She slaps me a few times over by the couch and for a moment I think this is going to work. She hits me particularly hard once and I feel my eye starting to swell again and she stops.
Alice- Lie down on the bed, she says. If I remember, this was your favourite.
She remembers!! She slides over me. Of course I'm not wearing protection. Nothing is safe. She rides up over me. Like an oven. She says:
Alice-FP, darling.
She grabs my hands and places them on her thighs. She lies on top of me, biting me lightly. I grip her legs and stay quiet. Her chest is against my chest. This is sex. There's no real threat. If I yell loud enough she'll stop, which leaves us with nothing. And when I say I exist only to please her I don't mean it. And when she tells me how beautiful she is it's because she doesn't believe it. Or when she says she has to punish me and asks me if I'm scared, she doesn't mean it. We don't mean it.
ALICEʹS POINT OF WIEW
I turn to him, but not opening my legs. I want him to open them for me. He does, and I be soft and wet where his fingers are strong and hard. I be softer than I ever been before. All my strength is in his hand. My brain curls up like wilted leaves.... I stretch my legs open, and he is on top of me. Too heavy to hold, and too light not to. He puts his thing in me. In me. In me. I wrap my feet around his back so he can't get away. His face is next to mine. He puts his fingers in mine. I hold on tight. My fingers and my feet hold on tight, because everything else is going, going. I know he wants me to come first. But I can't. Not until he does. Not until I feel him loving me. Just me. Sinking into me. Not until I know that my flesh is all that be on his mind. That he couldn't stop if he had to. That he would die rather than take his thing out of me. Of me. Not until he has let go of all he has, and give it to me. To me. To me.
When he does, I feel a power. I am strong, I am pretty, I am young. And then I wait. He shivers and tosses his head. Now I am strong enough, pretty enough, and young enough to let him make me come. I take my fingers out of his and put my hands on his behind. My legs drop back onto the bed. Then I feel like I'm laughing between my legs, and the laughing gets all mixed up with the colors, and I'm afraid I'll come, and afraid I won't. But I know I will. And I do. And it is rainbow all inside. And it lasts and lasts and lasts. I want to thank him, but don't know how, so I pat him like you do a baby. He asks me if I'm all right. I say yes. He gets off me and lies down to sleep. I want to say something, but I don't. I don't want to take my mind offen the rainbow.
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