_____by ADC

I love it when you come from behind to kiss my neck and leave a passion mark
there for the whole world to see. You surprise me as much as I surprise
myself by wanting it; that is, wanting you to bite and sink your teeth into
the supple flesh between my earlobe and my collarbone. Call me an
exhibitionist to the fullest extent, but I want people to wonder while
gazing at my profile, want them to try to guess what went down to produce
the deep raspberry inside the arc of my neck. At the same time, there is an
air of mystery, because they don't know me, and they don't know you, and
couldn't possibly fathom this dark purple testimony to our desire.

So of course they wouldn't know that at first you bruise my skin with a
barely-there caress of your full lips. And they wouldn't be able to see my
fingertips trying to get under your skin 'cause you are breathing and
whispering into my ears, tickling and teasing the ends of my nerves. And
they wouldn't know that while you are licking the top of my collarbone like
a cat does a long-awaited dish of sweet milk - slowly so that you can savor
it - your hands overwhelm my breasts, rubbing in small circles, occasionally
squeezing until they feel fluffy but phat. And very ready. You rub and rub
and rub until the V beneath my skirt blushes red and begins to throb. And as
you pull my nipples, twisting them between your fingertips, I moan. And
some random passerby wouldn't know that my moans drive you on, push you to
the edge.

Naw, they wouldn't know, but they'd damn sure be looking and wondering did
you squeeze my ass and break away from the dampness on my neck to titillate
me, to tell me all the things you want to do with me before the night is
over. The fact that they'd be looking and trying not to stare excites me.
Although not as much as you pulling me down into this whirlwind with your
insistent sucking, sucking, sucking - as if you gotta penetrate my chocolate
skin and fill my blood with all of you. The persistent pulling at me like
you fucking need me like that, forcing all my blood to the surface and
keeping it trapped there as evidence.

And this is why, when we are walking down the street, the inside of me gets
a little hotter and I grip your hand a little tighter to let you know that I
feel it. I feel the eyes of strangers wander over me, and come to a stop on
my neck. I can sense them looking from me to you and back again, trying to
surmise the origin of such a craving. And I smile, knowing they are witness
to a thing they will never actually see with their own eyes. I smile
knowing that I am yours and you are mine and it's because of this that I
wear the mark of your passion with pride.

Copyright © 1999. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.