Friday 17 October 2008

Dirty talk

“Sorry?” she asked.
“I didn't quite catch that.”
“What?” He yawned.
“I thought you said something.”
“I dunno, that's why I asked.”
“I probably said something in my sleep that must have woken you up, then.”
“Sorry, you were saying?”
“Maybe I talked in my sleep.”
“Yeah,” she smiled, “or maybe you snored.”
“Did I?”
“I dunno, I was asleep myself.”
“It's so amazing,” he said, “so wonderful to finally have you next to me.”
“I know, I can hardly believe it. Good morning, by the way.”
“You call this morning?” He drew her against his chest and threw the duvet over her head.
“Well,” she answered, “if it's not, I'd better get back to sleep.”
“My god, you are so sexy. Incredibly sexy.”
“Thank you. You're not bad yourself, either. I love your skin, it's very smooth.”
“And I love your hands and they way they stroke me. They are so petite, so soft. You are amazing, do you know that?”
“You're sweet. I feel very comfortable around you. And safe.”
“I need to warn you, though. As soon as I get used to this again, I'll keep wanting more and more. In no time I'll be insatiable. Really, I'll wake up every fifteen minutes to harass you.”
She paused before she asked: “So, how long has it been since the last time?”
“I knew you were gonna ask that,” he said. “About six months, I reckon.”
“Half a year...”
“For most people that's a really long time. But I just got out of the habit. Plenty of opportunities, really, I just didn't think any of them gals were interesting enough.”
“Good thing you're not used to it any more.” She rested her head on his armpit. “I'd love to get some more sleep tonight.”
“Oh really? First you say you've been longing to end up in bed with me for weeks, and now you expect me to believe that you wanna have a nap? Is that the best you can come up with?”
“Have you got any better ideas? Oh no, that's not what I meant – please, come back up here!”
“Why? Are you ticklish?”
“Not really. I guess you're making me shy.”
“It's embarrassing.”
“So you want me to stop it?”
“You weren't so shy earlier.”
“Well, that was an exception. Normally, I'm a very decent girl.”
“Oh really? And you think this isn't decent?”
“No! Stop that!” she giggled.
“How about this? Do you think decent girls don't do this?”
“Absolutely not!” she said, then hesitated before she added: “No, I really don't think they do.”
“Perhaps you should reconsider your definition of decency.”
“Should I?”
“Since I absolutely, definitely agree that you're a decent girl, I'd appreciate it if you did.”
“Should I?”
“Please do. Please do, oh god, please do.” He repeated the words between the little kisses he scattered all the way back up her chest, neck and face.
“I dunno – they might, you know... they might...”
“Do you know anything that is allowed for decent girls?”
“I suppose this is all right,” she breathed in his ear, “after all, it's only kissing.”
“Absolutely. This is definitely decent. This is just kissing. Not even French. Definitely very, very decent.”
“Yeah. And I don't think there's anything dirty about that either, you know.”
“You know, that thing you just did with your left hand.”
“You mean this hand?”
“Yeah, that has to be allowed. You're just... caressing me.”
“That's right, I'm just caressing you. You are so beautiful, just look at you! Your breasts are perfect, your waist is so slim, your tush so firm. I could caress you all night long, every inch of you, you know that? Is that all right with you?”
“Oh yes, I'd love that... and more.”
“Really? There's more? Please tell me! What is it, that decent girls do next?”
“Oh my,” she moaned after a long silence, “I definitely need to learn some dirty talk!”

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