She utters that mmffff-like sound neither gasp nor moan yet somehow both when his fat cock deepens inside her in that first, aching surge of blind motion. They’re lying on their sides, facing, her slight leg flung over his hip. The whole shank sinks deep and he holds still, grasping the cheek of her ass in one hand, and there’s that sensation that comes with moments like this that the entire planet is poised on the brink of the desperate animal pump and grind that comes next. But it doesn’t happen, his body holds still except the rise and fall of his breath, the soft glide of his knuckles along her cheek. She looks at him half confused and he flexes his cock inside her.

Nothing happens and no one says a word. There’s just a meandering trail of moonlight over the tapered angles of her body, the rise and fall of their breath in erratic counterpoint and the shivering pulse juicing down the length of his cock.

“Ain’t you gonna fuck?” she says. Her eyes are behind the statement with a kind of bored impatience.

“This is how it starts,” he says. “Just … hold on.”

But there’s no conviction in his eyes as he tries to match her stare – he can feel the failure and knows she can see the vacancy.

“Who just puts it in and then doesn’t do nothin’?”

A wave of annoyance scores his face while he wraps his hand around her throat. Just holding. The pad of his thumb plugs into the hollow between her collar bones.

“Can you shut up for ten seconds and just…feel it?”

A wounded look darkens her elfin features. “That ain’t such a nice way to talk when you got your dick up a girl.”

“I’m just …. “ But the explanation stops before it gets anywhere. He just wants to feel her body melting around his unmoving cock and look at her face long enough to believe she knows what he’s thinking. Yet there’s nothing but that wounded pout and vacuous gaze. He studies her face and imagines she’s someone he’s known for years instead of a couple of hours. She becomes someone who knows and even loves him. Desire started to bore him years ago but love would never touch him. He wanted to die or explode. Or maybe cover her moonlit skin with tears under an outbreak of false confessions. But the moment flies when her face won’t cooperate with his unexpressed plans.

He thumbs the spot at the base of her neck and squeezes the other hand behind her head, clenching a grip of hair into his fist. He pulls her head toward his own, trying to force her to look at him but her eyes are shooting in every direction but his face.

“I feel you,” he tells her. “Inside. I can feel you melting.”

“I ain’t melting, mister. Ain’t nothin’ but a wet pussy you don’t even wanna fuck.”

She tries to squirm against his cock and he pulls his hand from her throat long enough land a pair of sharp smacks onto her ass.

“Ow, mister. Whadja do that for?” But there’s a telling quiver in her pussy all along the length of his cock. Smoke of a distant brush fire drifts through her eyes.

“Because I fucking told you to hold on.”

The pout almost seems on the verge of tears. “Mister you’re driving me nuts. Why’dja get me here if you don’ wanna fuck?”

“Tell me your name again.”

“Geezus, mister. Kelly, okay? You gonna remember this time?”

“Maybe.”

“Fuck.”

“You got a mouth like a dirty little whore.”

“You shouldn’t oughta call a girl them things. ‘Specially when you got your thing up her all the way.”

“You can play with your clit if you want,” he says.

She pushes her hand between them and starts rubbing. Her head leans back as far as it can within his grip. Then come whimpers. Moans. Sighs. That rippling up inside her again. His cock is beyond throbbing.

“Dirty little whore,” he reminds her.

“Yesssss,” she relents.

Her body tenses and her pussy ripples hard as she cums.

“I need more,” she pouts.

“Why?”

“Cuz I’m a dirty little whore?”

“Whose dirty little whore?”

“I’ll be yours if ya tell me yer name?”

“Mister will do for now.”

“Okay mister.”

“You want me to fuck you, Kelly? For real? Hard and deep?”

“Oh yes, mister.”

“Then take your finger off your clit and slide it up your ass. Deep.”

“Mister.” Half gasping. “That’s … dirty.”

“So are you. You just need to learn to embrace it.”

“Fuck. I can’t.”

But as she denies it her hand is already moving behind her, wet from her pussy. He lets go of her throat and grips her ass again, pulling her open to ease her own self-invasion. She whimpers and he can feel the finger along his cock through the wafer-thin membrane between.

“Fuck,” she says. “I … I … can feel your cock.”

He pulls back with his hips and feels the telltale drag and suck of her body as his shaft draws back wet. The slide stops where the head is just lodged inside her, holding its purchase. His hand tightens on her ass cheek, squeezes hard. Then suddenly lifts and rains down with a swift, open-palm smack. Her eyes water and the wounded look comes back. But he drives back inside her. And now there’s the hot, honey-dripping clench of her hole along with the curious search of the finger in her ass.

Mmmffff, she says and repeats every time he drives into her core.

She’s holding onto him tighter with her one, free arm and leg. Her finger is moving in and out of her ass in counterpoint with his cock.

Sometimes, desire gets to look like anything you want it to, and this is one of them. At least for now.