Bessa

Summer Grounds 1/2

Dawn mocks the night now in its low light laughter.

The Savage still sleeps, knees are drawn up. His cheek is pressed against the wood, mouth partially open.

I watch him...

His legs slowly uncurl themselves. A lazy stretch of his body.

He doesn't open his eyes, so I keep mine fixed on him.

Stretching.

Muscles contracting, flexing, shifting...

Stretching.

There is a feast to my eyesight that devours the picture of this Savage. The space between my thighs clenches and unclench. A slickness gathers between my inner folds, that makes my mouth part uncontrollably.

He stretches, I pulse.

The canvas of ink can't hide the dips and ridges of his torso, the outline of ribs show through when he reaches above his head with his hands.

Stretching.

Legs tightening, toes pointing and flexing back.

Stretching.

A rush of heat surges itself to the surface of my skin.

Stretching

His body twists from side to side, his nakedness now fully exposed to my eyes.

My thighs squeeze themselves tight, a pressure builds from within.

Warmth floods below my mound.

Stretching

He tips his hips one way then the next, muscles contracting, relaxing.

Slow and relaxed he stretches himself.

A shift of my hips rubs against the bunched up blankets that have a small pressure against my mound.

His eyes stay closed, I rock slowly.

Stretching.

I tremble.

There is no stopping my hand.

Exhaling deeply into my pillow.

Eyes slightly close as the impulses bring my sex to life.

Breathing getting heavier, a hunger surfacing.

I moan.

He opens his eyes with a groan, mine look away instantly.

A shift from my shoulder, angling away from his intrusive sight.

An inhale from him, my head buries itself into the pillow. The heat from my face is burning my skin.

"You don't have to look away from me, Bessa." His voice is too low for the day.

"You shouldn't be sleeping without clothes." Saying it into the pillow.

"It's too hot for clothes."

"You don't have to stop." The husk of sound from deep in his chest makes my hips give one more rock against my hand before I reluctantly pull the self-pleasure away.

...silence.

Embarrassed silence shames my face that's still buried in the pillow.

When he gets up, the beat of his heart pulls away from me, going to the bathroom.

I breathe again.

Water is heard running, and he doesn't come out for a while. It allows me to get dressed quickly without the worry of him seeing the bareness of me. Tying my hair up in a scarf of Silk.