Let me watch, ma.

In a city that isn’t ours, between Jerusalem and Mexico, you stand statuesque before me as I sit poised and still. Faint, slow moans of intoxicating instruments strumming their own story secretively from afar. The kind that makes you feel soulful, yet, heated from within, and a mixed cocktail of the two.

You run a quick brush across my hair and begin to press against my knee to uncross my legs, spreading so slowly a part. Just to my waist you squat down, slipping my skirt over hips and thighs. I’m already feeling the pressure of your thoughts, my love, subdued by the wet between my legs.

How happy I am to have you here within a grasp of my heart.

“Let me watch,” he says while completely dressed, on stone legs, between me, leading, always knowing what he wants. He continues, “Show me where you like to touch when I’m away from you so far.”

You place your hand firmly on my face and insert your thumb into my mouth. You like to feel my lips in circles, purposefully, while pressing into my tongue.

I try to lace my fingers through your hair, but you grab my wrist, kiss, explaining with no words to do as said. A final lick up my inner thigh, close enough but just shy from a bare, shaven, pantyless mound. I’m transfixed with how you can make the calm feel so safe, but also concerned.

You stand up, towering over me moving to the edge of another chair. Directly across, watching, waiting, silently insisting with your constant and pensive stare.

You lean in, propping up with elbows to quads while hands folded under your chin. You and your Cheshire grin.

“Ma, do I need to say it again?” He knows it’s not a question.

Truth - I adore when you talk to me with all the slowness of your intent.

I spread my legs further, my finger slowly dives into, running across the crease. Only to slip out, massaging the wetness across the outer, now glistening skin, moving plump, firm folds to separate. All while using my other hand to balance on a corner to sit upright.

“No, mami. Only touch you, nothing else,” he commands so sternly, but calmly in an accent from somewhere else.

I drop my arm to one side completely, take a breath in and then out. I adjust my whole body in this chair, with only myself now to hold me up.

“Fuck,” he mouths softly.

You begin to unzip, unwrap. I can’t wait to see the proportion that is throbbing underneath. It’s indescribable what it does to me. When each motion is a full-frame image captured, I then take time to study and absorb.

I slowly rub with three fingers flush across split, trying to manage the overwhelming surge of nerves before using fingertips. So soft, juicy, smooth and wet, making it so easy to glide and slip. All I can envision right now is you on my fat lips.

I touch steadily and firmly in a circular, quick-flicking, small, up and down metronome click.

“Talk to me, angel,” he directs, now exposed and massaging the tip.

“I can’t think straight, mi amor. I want you inside of me.” I admit, it becoming impossible to escape the growing flame lit, heating me from deep within my trans abs, now wrapping around my clit.

The intensity palpable in this space. I can’t stop watching you stroke your cock up and down, continuously brushing over the very top. You slide more into your planted feet as I go into a euphoric state - closing my eyes involuntarily. My fingers forcing my attention to only me, when all I want to do is watch you, pleasuring yourself as you brush across your groomed skin.

“Don’t cum. Look at me,” he demands, snapping me out of a trance to focus on only him.

“Is that pussy for me, my Queen?” He asks already knowing the answer.

“Yes, my Prince.” I reply to ascertain his next move.

Then you do how only you know how to do best, hold my heart hostage to appease all your wickedness.

“Tell me you’ll leave him,” he states at this most inconvenient time, emotions running high, in midst of passion.

The sensation up my spine is a knife, but I cannot stop touching myself while listening to your manipulations.

“I can’t right now… I… Please, my love.” I’m begging.

I never know what to say when you twist my emotions to satisfy your needs. I almost stop.

“Noo… Don’t stop,” he elongates his exhale.

He continues to demand, “You can’t fuck him, understand?” He spits in his palm to slick his shaft, “From now on, I want you to tell him “no” every time you lie with him, ma. Do you understand?” He confirms again at the end.

He continues on as if I would ignore what he just said, “Moan for me. Call me what I like. I need to hear it, mama.”

Truth - Back to ‘him’… You think it arouses me when you reference him, using him as part of your plot. I think it arouses you more, the battle between and putting me in the middle, getting off on your malevolence.

I increase the rate of speed on my clit, however, now feeling uncomfortableness in taboo words he insists upon. To this vexed man, I speak, “My…” I exhale, always unsure of what to say, but him always loving that. I continue, “Do you want me to show you how to make me cum? Then be quiet and watch.” The softest command from me to him.

“What if I come to your house and show him how to fuck you? Bending you completely over, making him watch. I will do this, ma.” His contrariness spews in a gritty groan. “He does not know how I care for you, my Queen,” he emphasizes further, now fully sliding up and down his cock.

“Stop it,” I plea, sort of.

Intense in his length of stride on the sides, all fingers gripping fully, I can hear so loudly now that slickness between your palm and cock.

“I want to see your tits, ma. Those perfect nipples pulled slowly from your bra. Pinch them, lick them barely with your tongue,” he says crudely only to further assert, he knowing I hate that word.

Truth - I’ll pay for what I’m about to do, I resolve to this fact.

Enough energy with adrenaline, I pull down my skirt by the hem that’s draped across my firm, upper thigh, to rise.

“What are you doing, mama? You ignoring me? Sit down,” stroking his cock, becoming too consumed by the feeling to cum.

I begin to walk towards you, massaging one by one each full breast, exposing and pinching pink peeks over lace to tease you, as you had just asked.

“Ma, tell me I’m good. Tell me you’re mine, please,” he breathes so heavily, desperately, while I walk closer towards him.

Now me between your strong legs, hard cock, climax almost there, I grab your face and hold. You freeze, always impressed I’m so strong. You looking up, exposing your entire profile.

I slap across the jaw.

More truth - It stings, I know.

The sound is so crisp, but slight in comparison. It has sharply quieted everything else in this space. The minute within now, freezing itself, and holding on to the side of my fate.

You’re stunned…

Still rubbing your cock.
I scold, “The things you say, you sometimes take too far. You don’t talk about him, talk to me that way.” I’m shaking to the core, my pussy swollen, throbbing, fully within his range. I continue, “You knew from the start it would never be just you to love. I promise, though, this we are… Will only be with you. You are my young Prince, my love. Let that be enough.”

More truth - How did we get to this place, my love? I’m not your mother nor wife, yet, you insist I will nourish you the same. It’s when you allow yourself to be most vulnerable. Typically it’s after returning from places you never want to talk about.

You formulated this idea in my mental kitchen that I will nurture and take care of you in such ways. Be the woman enveloped with the most secret parts of you. Be sweet to you… You love my sweetness the most. You never had a woman so willing, so caring, that when you walk through the door, towards, the energy I absorb. Anything you ask, I’m your mami, all yours. I don’t even need to know where you are… You are behind me, arms folded, waiting, agitated, becoming even more. Acknowledge me… You and your scorn.

Truth - I’m always impressed how you are able to just walk in any room with that… “With what?” You’d ask. “Power, my love.” You’d contradict, “You have the power, Queen.” And with a side note, “You have… Over me.” Hard to know, having power over such a force.

You quickly grab the back of my thighs, locking them both in your grasp. You pull me down so fast to my knees, clutching my hair once I land. Your intoxicating angst following along. All air has escaped me, your verdict now my oxygen.

Seething, he mouths in breaths, “I make you fucking pay for marking me. You don’t mark me,” he grabs my face to his, saying so assertively.

“Fuck, mami,” he declares in aggravation, breathing into me.

Your hand back to cock, you touch your forehead to mine. Your eyes rolling with each upward stroke, my tips of fingers whispering touches to your outer, silhouetted thighs.

This will go one of two ways, my soldier, and you will have me begging in either case. It’s okay, do as you must. I will take all of you inside of me.

“Are you my angel?” He questions.

“Yes, my love.” Me looking up to him so hard, wondering why he has to ask.

“Undress me,” he gives unnerving, quiet direction as he leans back, placing both hands behind his head.

I remove one by one each article of clothing, starting with your shoes, reaching to the top edge of your pants, steadily pulling them down. I feel the belt around your pant loop, noting it might be used later on. I glide up your stomach and ribs, kissing each chiseled edge while unbuttoning your shirt as my fingers ensue. I finally arrive to the broadest point of your shoulders when you lean forward and lock me in a kiss. You trail down my neck to then cup each nipple into your lips, sucking intently and lingering in full circles all around.

Truth - It is so easy to take care of you, my young King. You’re just tormented, it’s your greatest sin. But if you want me to serve you, I will always oblige, always happy to fulfill your greatest transgressions with my heart forgets to beat during the unknown of what you decide.

Pushing you back, I return my knees to ground, licking each toe as I caress your calves, working up the inner side. Slowly moving through the center, tracing left to right my lips and tongue. I arrive at the divide, following the line connecting me to your hip bones. I lower my view to the curved path leading, licking the line of your perineum, completely hovering over the surrounding sensors with the flight of my tongue.

You take my left wrist, lifting it upright towards your jaw. You spread and spit into my flat palm, placing my lubed hand directly on your thickest end. You massage with your hand over mine, the entire length of your shaft until succumbing to its emotion.

“I want to cum in your mouth, ma. Can you make your Prince cum?” He, this man, already knows there is no resisting him.

More truth - Your cock is so beautiful. It is warm, smooth, circumcised with a fat top. A slightly curved extension of the more massive part.

My warm tongue surveying, you adjusting your position, you lean into my mouth. You grab harder the back of my head, trying to find some sort of leverage.

“Fuck, Queen, don’t stop,” he pleas.

Truth - How could I stop? You would never allow.

You are pumping at a regular pace, invading, moaning with words mixed in languages of another land. I position directly over while still resting on my knees. I reach around, grabbing the back of your thighs, allowing access to the deepest depth. And you’re unable to feel anything other than the vortex that’s pulling you into my mouth.

“Ma… ma, I love you. God, fuck angel… You beautiful,” he phases in and out, hitting that low, baritone note.

I then feel the sprawl of your fingers on the back of my slender neck, holding me in one place. I feel the split second you’re suspended in air, hearing the silence turn into full and complete release. A jolt.

Your cum is heavy, slowly coating, moving down my throat, it warms my mouth. I ingest every bit never allowing any to drip from the corners of my smile.

You completely fall back, eyes fading, opening and closing to see your vision straight. You lower your head to look down at me, caressing my jaw, trying to calm your breath and weighted angst.

Truth - I know you will not let go.

“Can’t believe you slapped me, ma,” he says, almost sad.

More truth - It makes me sad, too.

I slowly stand and ask, “Do you wish to correct it… Prince?”

You have one arm draped over the top of your head, scratching your thoughts.

You nod “yes” slowly and certainly.

I look to the side where your belt was placed last, picking up, I hold it in my grasp. I return to meet your gaze, and I hand it to you in full retreat as you sit into your chair, you reach out to accept with your fingertip touching my hand.

I slowly glide up the bed, on my back, my silhouette perked and positioned to satiate your appetite. I can see from an angle, glancing over to you, you’re hard once again. A sort of problem you have, never giving rest. You will make this about you for a bit, deprive me to cum until your anguish is justifiably met. You’ve decided if I won’t heed you, you will make it so I won’t forget you before embracing you next time. I accept, my Prince. The harshness of your touch at times, is always mixed with the deepest, most needed tenderness. I hold you in my heart.