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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Experience · #2066707
she is his, but he is not hers
He says that I taste like honey, as his tongue caresses between my legs.
Once I am done he gets up and strides across the room retrieving his ringing phone from his pants.

Voices lower to whisper tones so it is assumed that I cannot hear.
Lies.
Promises never intended to be kept.
All for me.

It is love, he says.
Infatuation, at best, I say.
He softly strokes my face and pulls me in close to brush my cheeks with his lips.
I close my eyes and he kisses the lids.

So gentle in his approach. So loving.
I forget for a moment that he is not mine.
Merely borrowed for the moment.

As the door closes and he leaves my view I swear it's the last time.
I will not be second choice any longer.
Confident and strong I carry on, head held high.

Ringing.
Yes, I am here.
I need you.
I am yours.

He knocks.
I open the door and lose myself in him.
Lose my soul..
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