letting go

Three more months…

His friend had a last minute model cancellation for a photoshoot. Was I free?

He joked that he would pay me with a spanking session.

I got paid. And I got spanked.

Afterward, he pushed me back onto the bed and held himself up over me.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

My “yes” had the force of an exhale behind it. My eyes teared up.

“What did you miss about me?”

I couldn’t answer him.

“I could fuck you right now,” he said, his hand briefly teasing between my legs before sliding up to taunt my nipples. Every time I yelped, he would squeeze my mouth and bite on my lips.

But whenever he tried to actually kiss me, I could feel myself resisting and I knew he could feel it, too. The back of my head was in his hand. He’d been massaging my neck, rubbing my hair.

“Do you want to hurt me?” he asked.

His hand was at my neck. I braced for a smack. It did not come.

He expressed so much and I felt almost nothing compared to what I used to feel.


Or buried.