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" Downstairs it is," Amnita said. "Could you unzip me?"Devlin did so, and settled back to finish her coffee as Amnita went down the hall. Did she feel...like having sex this morning? Um, maybe, but maybe not. She closed her eyes, thinking how good it would feel to have a nice long piece of male meat sliding into her. She'd kiss his chest, savoring the power in his shoulders and back. She'd feel his butt, and how the muscles shifted as he drove himself into her.She smiled. When she put it that way. It kept climbing. The best poem I had ever written. In laces swirling around her neck, reaching and conquering her chin and cheeks. Reading only of lust and passion. I called her “ma douce” by her breasts, “mon hétaïre” by her throat. And I will swear, by the way her mouth widened at the touch of the iron, she felt the words in her flesh, as the pen darkened her bright red lips with hard capital letters that read: “MA PUTAIN”.I couldn't stop, dipping the pen time and time in her cupped hands.. More

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