by Veronica Harder
We enter the room and shut the door. Without speaking, without waiting, I turn to you and press your back to the wall, my hand around your throat, my lips against your lips. I pull back and meet your eyes; you know better than to speak, so you just look at me, eager, desiring. I turn your head to the side and cover your mouth with my hand, putting my cheek next to yours so you can feel my breath on your skin as I move my lips downward, exploring the side of your neck.
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