throwing rocks -make me sweat
The reason I came here to direct the photo shoot wasn’t that this photographer and his crew are genius.
I mean, that is a reason, but not the only reason.
The reason I insisted to come to this city is this guy I have been at war with online – throwing rocks at each other left and right – and I haven’t met yet. Besides the sound of his voice – I asked for an mms just saying my name – I don’t know his face or much more of him. We were supposed to meet last night, but his last smart rock was to cancel at the last minute and then spend nearly 2 hours on the phone talking to me –when he could had meet me.
I lay in the hotel bed and the only rocks I have are the ones swimming in my bourbon.
The cue at the airport security goes slow and my mind wanders and fantasizes about how it would actually be to meet him and be with him. By now l start having the feeling the guy is a weird-looking creep with three legs or something and I mentally throw myself a rock to wake me up.
Ok, people, move it, for Christ sake!
“Benny at home” in my purple Skullcandies seems to easy my discomfort to be stuck in a cue. And as it begins to move the hair in the back of my neck raises, like the animal instinct that tells u somebody is watching. I look around but I don’t see nothing or nobody out of place. I hate to take my heels off, but I do anyway and I place them next to my Mac on the moving belt.
I feel it again. Shit.
As l pick my things and put on my heels, I feel a breeze though my hair and a whisper on my ear: “Silvia…” I froze. I look around, my heart now fighting to jump out of my breast.
I am doomed with this shit… This is way too deep in my head.
As l start walking, I recognize several faces turning and looking at me. Yes, I love to make a statement with the clic-clac of my shoes, and as l lower my eyes to swim in between the ocean of people, I hear it again,
I am faster now.
Two blue eyes stare at me, like a little boy salivating in front of a piece of candy he knows he is going to eat in a few seconds. Every single noise, every conversation, everything goes silence, like someone turned the volume completely off. My lips separate slightly,
“Is it… You?”
You don’t say anything, but your smile is bigger now. My legs shake, but they hold me there for a few more seconds until a polite conversation begins:
“Where… Which gate… Lets go…”
Miraculously we don’t bump into people as we walk, since we can’t take our eyes out of each other. Not much talking either: our eyes have their own conversation. Right after the restaurant, in a little indentation on the left side, I grab your jacket and I take you just a few meters.
We are in between the window and the back wall of the bathrooms. I push myself against the wall, my eyes not letting go of your eyes for one second.
You hold my face in your hands, tilt your head and kiss me, with your full mouth, like wanting to absorb my entire being through your teeth. You pull yourself a bit,
I hear your voice trembling. My soft lips open to kiss you again, but this time I close my eyes.
A click, some steps freeing the bathroom behind us, and in a very fast movement you drag me into it. One more click. This time we are in.
Look at me, look at my chest breathing incredibly fast, my nipples fighting to get free; look at my pants, how my dick wants to feel as free as your breast.
There is enough electricity in that little bathroom to supply the entire city for a week.
Parts of clothing ripped off, there is not enough time for “let’s go slow, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” of to admire each other bodies. Just the necessary to have a good skin contact.
I feel you growing, pushing against me. One hand fly from nipple to nipple while your tongue fights to get a place in between. The other hand lifts my skirt, surrounds with an index the border of my panties and pulls them down.
One finger, two… They accommodate around my lips tickling my clitoris. One finger, two. In. Deep.
Still, our eyes keep don’t stop contact every single second.
“Say it…” l mumble. “Say it”.
As you rip my panties off with that one hand, you lift my leg with the other and push it to the side.
“Silvia…. Silvia” you say as I am welcoming you in.
I close my eyes. A threat of saliva runs down on the corner of my lips.
There is no love, there is no carefulness, and there is no consideration. There is just passion. Beyond sex. Passion. And it doesn’t take long, neither. I am coming. I am coming. A couple of blood droplets run down from my nails on your back, and as you finch on a mix of pain and pleasure, you look at me.
And you come, hard, furious, deep, full… I can feel droplets of sweat falling down from your forehead on my shoulders. I feel still the breeze of you breath on my ears…
“Si…l…aahhh… you…r… am…a…zing”
This rock will certainly rock my world for some time…