Page 111 of Rome: The Ballerina

“Good, then. I just need your permission. Your consent. Before you touch the drinks I’ve ordered ahead of this night– so I know this isn’t influenced by anything but nature. Yours as a woman. And mine as a man who seeks to please himself by pleasing you.”

She inhaled deeply and released the breath slowly.

“Do I have your permission, Rome?”

There were no words. Just slow blinks.

Once.

Twice.

She pushed a lump of air down her throat.

Once.

Twice.

She blinked again. Swallowed again. Tried breathing again.

I was hardly getting anywhere with her. The words weren’t there but the signs were. However, I needed to hear it from her mouth that she was prepared to go on the ride I was prepared to take her on.

I closed the gap between us, kneeling beside her. She was fragrant, smelling like pussy and power. Because, though I hadn’t tasted or felt it yet, that pussy had powers over me.

Summoning me.

Teasing me.

Calling me.

Discussing me with those lips I wanted to kiss on.

Suck on.

Spit on.

Respectfully.

I rested my hands on her skin. She was trembling.

“Sa–”

“I need your permission– Do I have it, Rome?”

I caressed the side of her leg, extracting water from her well. She nodded.

“Words.”

“Yessss–”

Not a single word left my mouth as I stood on my feet. She was still in my line of vision. Everything about me blurred. She was the only concern of mine. One snap of the linen sent the dishes crashing to the ground. Rome’s spine straightened. Her eyes shifted, but were right back on me. Not even a full second passed us by.

Still, I gave her time to understand exactly what was happening. Though she’d voiced her comprehension, I wanted to be sure she was sure.

Her skin was neverending. It went on for inches and inches and inches. Under my palm, it was as smooth as butter. Soft like a cool pillow to rest my head on at night. For midday naps. Evenings when all I wanted to do was crash. Always. Any time. Any place.

Her legs parted with ease. They welcomed me. So did her bald pussy behind her threads. She was ready. So was I.

I pushed her panties aside, too anxious to pull them down those long legs of hers. A gasp fell from her lips before they pressed together. At the sight of her treasured goods, I lost all control.

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