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Erotic Prompts Series

Photo by Joey Nicotra on Unsplash

I think I still make you nervous. Palms sweaty, pulse racing against your burning skin. Your eyes watch me carefully from across the room. They've been undressing me from the moment I stepped foot inside your apartment. I'd be lying if I said I didn't expect you to open your door for me. I knew you would. I'm the only person you'd ever leave the door open for. Even with a knife in my hand and a murderous gaze hiding behind my true intent, your addiction to me has always been stronger than your logic. 

There's an open bottle of Jack Daniel's on your countertop. You were prepared for my visit I see. I smirk when I notice half the bottle is almost gone but you don't seem to care that you're drunk and you made the bad decision to let me in. But fucking up is all you know how to do, so the bottle of the good stuff is the only thing that will get you through the night.  

That and burying yourself inside me sooner rather than later. 

"It's been a while," you comment, gaze glued to me, your hand gripping your glass tightly as I pull my hair out from my bun and let the dark waves frame my pale face. Your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick your lips as you stride on over to me. The air is thick with sensual tension, surrounding us with a force field of aggression and desire and unfinished business. I can still see the hatred you have for me in between the golden flecks of honey in your eyes, while your hand makes it way to my waist, pulling me closer to your body. You wanted me to know how much you still wanted me while the simmering thoughts of what I did to you still fueled your every action. I also know you plan on fucking me until all the burning melancholy I placed inside of you goes away. 

Oh honey, if relief is what you're looking for, I wasn't the one to give to you. We only ever gave each other just enough toxic motivation to keep our heads above water. 

"Yes, yes it has," I whisper as I brush my lips against yours and we sway for a moment to the sound of the jazz tunes coming from the apartment right above yours. I pull away from you the second I see you moving in for a taste of my lips and take your glass, finishing the remains of the potent drink before setting it down on your coffee table. 

"Is she here?" I ask, and see the dim light in your eyes grow dark with shame. I knew you had a girlfriend before coming here. And I knew you shared the same space we were just dancing in. The lustful corruption that ran through our veins and caused chaos only activated whenever we were in the same room. 

"She's out of town," you answer, and I smile because I remember you were always a quick learner. You knew exactly when I was lying and why, and you still fucked me at the end of the night. Words of adoration was something you lacked as a child. The warmth all children needed to grow up mentally stable was not infused in you and when I whispered promises into your ears at night, you soaked them all up, and it kept you attached to the illusion of me I allowed you to create. You were still like a moth to a flame whenever you witnessed the sadness pouring out of someone's smile and when you saw mine bleeding through the seems, you had to have me. 

Just like you'll have me tonight.

"I've missed you," I claim, and you only smile when you see the truth leaking out of my eyes. I had no reason to lie tonight. I have missed you. Just not the spark of relief I'll feel when I end up breaking your heart again. 

"I can see that," you respond before your lips find mine and you devour me, your hands working on ridding me of every piece of clothing I have on. Once I'm bare in front of you, I remove your belt and tug down your pants, pulling away from your lips long enough to kiss down your chest as I unbutton your shirt. As soon as your pants are around your ankles, I get on my knees and regain some of the power I lost when you kissed me. I take the tip of your cock in my mouth and swirl my tongue over your tip. I can feel you tightening, trying to hold back your eagerness to fuck my mouth. Smirking, I take you in as deep as I can and then spit you out when I begin to taste your warm seed. 

I stroke you down, looking up at you as my tongue slides up and down your stiff shaft. Your hatred for me grows by the second as your fingers dip into my hair and grabs a handful. You tug at it when I begin to suck on you, making sure to milk you into the hard rod I needed to fill me completely. You pull yourself out of my mouth the second you feel yourself about to cum, and place me underneath you, your body pinning me onto the floor. You waste no time in diving in towards my slick folds. Your hungry tongue opens my flaps and begin to lick at my pounding clit. Your fingers thrust inside of me, stretching my walls full of my natural juices. You use it to lubricate my sensitive nub and I bite my lower lip when you take my clit into your mouth and your tongue flicks over it rapidly. 

I hold back all the moans begging to erupt from my throat, while my fingers pinch and tug at my nipples, adding to the stimulation you're providing for me. You're hard and thick when you finally slip inside of me, diving straight into my core with each forceful thrust. I could've said the same about your twisted heart. It stood out in a crowd full of bodies that all withered and loved the same way. Your pain mirrored my own and drew me in from the first words we ever said to each other and I knew I had to absorb as much as I could just to see how you'd cry when happiness was just out of your reach. 

Your heavy cock and broken heart bring me to orgasm just as you burst inside of my contracting inner walls. My muscles wrap around you, milking every drop of hot seed and pain you've built up since I left. I kiss my way up through the same patches of skin many have carved out in my absence and find your lips, plump and soft and wet from drinking from me. 

"You're going to ruin me again, aren't you?" you ask, whispering the dreaded question into my ear as you hold my spent body against yours. I wish you knew how badly I wanted to stay here, with you, with everything good or bad that would come with it. But the truth is, we didn't bring out the best in each other, and that was okay. At least we had the memories. At least we had ruined each other enough to know staying was never going to be an option. 

"Yes, darling. Ruining you is the greatest of all the pleasures I've endured." 

Read next: Are You a Whore?
Sharlene Alba
Sharlene Alba

Full of raw and unfiltered fluid poems, short stories and prompts on love, sex, relationships and life. I also review haircare, skincare and other beauty products. Instagram: grungefirepoetry fleekonabudget Facebook: grungefirepoetry 

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