Ratatat tat

I just can't get you out of my space. There's a bodega covered in colored Christmas lights with a green velvet sofa and polished gold accents atop an old Persian rug. I'm in a ruffly, tiered skirt and cap sleeved top. My hair is curled and soft but sitting high and falling a little bit on the side. I have my nails painted the same gold present in the room. My makeup is dark and smudged because it's 2am and we have been out all night. I was wearing kitten heels with little bows on the front but kicked them off when I found favor with the squishy, old rug. You are towering above me looking down my top. I grab you by your navy lapels and your jacket makes you look like an out of style sea captain. I press against you and know you want me to and want me, too. Music is coming from upstairs, thumping and celestial. I push you down into sitting on the sofa and hitch my skirt up enough to let you see me before I straddle you. Our faces are so close and I can see your lines in your cheeks and eyes and I want to trace them but I keep my hands pressing on your hips like I'm steadying myself. You lean towards me like you are going to kiss me and the tune upstairs changes and I turn my cheek to slight you. I feel you stiffen below me and I know it's going to happen. The velvet sofa springs press into my knees and your erection presses into my pussy. The lights flicker momentarily and your eyes never waver from mine. You lean again but I'm already there, meeting your mouth and everything else. I feel your hands skate up my back and then drop to my ass and squeeze. Lips and teeth on my neck and fingers tugging my top, desperately sourcing my nipples and a handful of breast. Your mouth tastes so fucking good and your body feels like a masterpiece. Lights flicker again and I'm ready for you, ready as I'll ever be.