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Flash Fiction: The Touch [Exported view]
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2014-10-03 16:21:32
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The Touch
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The stress of the day’s activities had begun to take their toll on her, leaving her a frustrated, shaking mess by the time she’d returned home. After snapping back at him over something so minor that she had already forgotten what it was, he grabbed her firmly by her shoulders and sat her down in a chair. She opened her mouth to protest but was cut short by his commands.
"Shut your mouth, close your eyes." His voice was firm and brokered no response. Sniffling and trembling she did so, her mind still racing miles a minute, going over all the mistakes she’d made and the things she still had left to do. She was so lost in this that his hands grasping her face cause her to gasp and jerk, caught off guard by the sudden touch. "Don’t move." He chided her, his hold tightening until she was complacent.
He now had her full attention. His grip loosened, his fingers and palms moving gently now over her skin. He touched and caressed and rolled her head side to side, manipulating her with smooth, fluid movements. The rest of the world disappeared. There was him and his scent and his touch and nothing else to distract her from what he wanted from her. For now it was to trace his fingers along her cheek bone and down the side of her jaw to her neck, the soft stroke of his fingers sending ripples of pleasure through her until she moaned quietly and nuzzled her face into his hand.
"Shh. I said not to move." A whimper built in her throat, but she swallowed it down for him with a shiver of desire. By the time he tilted her head back and pressed his lips firmly to hers she’d long since forgotten what she was supposed to be stressed over.
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