sensual | flash fic

"hold it."

his words are full, yet his eyes are empty. commanding as the tent in his pants, i wordlessly come down to his knees and submit between his legs. his length touches my hair, the indentation evident as it bounces, taunting me.

i make no move as his legs close in on me. as the wood beneath his navel stands erect from beyond his oak tree. skin so brown, yet it controls me from his perch.

"hold it," he reprimands, but i know better. i can't hold it until he allows me. until he calls me by name until his seductive game devolves into a fit of insults. degradation. forced, unclothed, as he remains close to his vocation.

a blue suit adorns him. a vest skinny to the touch hides muscles that choke me behind closed doors. his tie, red as the blood i bleed, doubles as a leash that lulls me into submission.

his shirt, white as snow, overwhelms my guilt. forces me to shame as i wonder how i, a mere coffee stain, can stand in his ironed presence. his blue slacks, a mirror of his hidden might, hide pillars that squeeze the wrong out of me - that fix me up right.

the only part of his attire that acknowledges me are his shoes. the closest to the ground. i worship the steps he walks, i stay silent when he walks all over me. when the blackened heel pushes the breath out of me. when blocks, so thick yet unassuming, tower over my gaze, and force me to look up beyond them to his length. the socks that ride inside them humble me, as he slips out of them gracefully and the whiff taints me so horribly.

smell. lick. rub. one word could never be enough. the humiliation felt never amounts to my composure.

i am never spared the luxury of reaction.