Distractions (D. SWING)

47

4 Lyric

"Yes, yes, yes!"

Empowering chants ricochet from the walls of the high quality wallpaper of the hotel's best suite's walls. My nails clawing at the toned flesh of his back as my pleasurable cries rise in volume. I stare him in the eye as he presses his forehead against my own. Tiny droplets of sweat cover the both of our foreheads. Our sweat collides, he presses his forehead harder into my own. His neck occasionally extending just enough for us to kiss as he works his hips in and out of me.

A cold chill runs down my spine and I lock my ankles around his waist. Biting down on my lip, I stare into his dilated pupils until he strikes the right chord that arches my back. My face lands in the crook of his neck as it follows my spine's replica of an exorcism. My thoughts become words as my lips press against his ears. "Cum in me," I breathlessly cry into his ear. The cries become wailing begs on the verge of tears "Baby, please. Oh my god, please cum in me." His grunts and moans ring through my chest cavity as he drills me deeper, as he drills me harder. My teeth biting down into him. The pleasure becomes too much for me. I may have broken skin.

It's an odd pleasure.

The way you feel them filling you. You can feel every single drop swimming away or seeping out. You can feel the twitch and spasms of his thick flesh as it mimics your own quaking legs. Look him in the eye– or the face, if they're closed– and you can feel the emotion pouring as you drain each other's soul. You can feel everything. Your heart almost breaks in the far left corner because you understand that these moments are one in a million. There is not a single orgasm like the other. Sometimes, others are more special than most. This one, this one was intense. He felt it, I felt it, we felt it.

All four times that I came, we felt it.

His head drops deeper into the crook of my neck. I feel his heavy breaths resurrect his tired, shriveled lungs as he is left inhaling and exhaling through his mouth. It's more so of a pant. I sit still, doing my own panting, and allow myself to endow the bliss of this feeling. Eyes of mine shut themselves. I feel him twitch in me once more, a half a second later comes the aftershock of his climax. More pre-cum and droplets of actual semen drip from his tip as I lifelessly lie beneath him.

Nobody has moved.

DeVante pulls his hips back just enough to remove himself from within me. He collapses beside me, placing his folded hands beneath his head. "Chanel."

"Yes?"

"Don't you ever say some fucked up shit like that to me ever again in your life," he states. The sincerity is crystal clear as his tone hovers a very thin line that goes from stern to I'll snap your fucking neck in half. The experience is absolutely frightening. Even in a vulnerable state he's hardcore but, I understand them message and he means exactly what he's saying.

Cum in me.

Those are my own words. That is exactly what I said to him.

I hadn't really been able to fully digest what I said either. So many emotions flowing through me, the idea of thinking over my words was nonexistent. Maybe that only means that I really did mean it. I can't control things I say in moments like that. All I know is love, passion, and infamous pleasure become a single emotion of its very own. If that is where the feeling drove me, so be it. It happened. I'm not sorry and I do not take it back.

I let out a noise that sounds like a laugh but, the air of a laugh is not something my lungs can currently grasp. "I wasn't trying to. You're the one—"

"Nah, you." He glares at me through the peripheral of his low eyelids. "I don't know what was going on in your mind but you took it there."