I Know Him

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“I know him.”

 

I know that when he walks through that door, he’ll come over and kiss me softly on the lips.  And when he pulls back, I’ll see that familiar glint in his eyes.  The one that lets me know that he wants more.  That just one taste wasn’t enough.  Then his sweet, pink tongue will dart out slowly, absently licking at his top and then bottom lip, trying to take the essence of me into him, anyway he can get it.

 

And then he’ll smile.  That special one, the one he saves just for me.  It’s not his trademark smile, the one that he lavishes on others when the mood strikes him.  It’s the private smile.  The one that tells me a million things without saying a word.

 

Then his eyes will change.  No matter how blue they seemed before, they’ll get even bluer…bluer than blue.  And the onyx centers will swell, letting me see deep into his soul.  See what makes him tick, even though I already know that right then, at that moment, it’s me.

 

Next is his breathing.  As his body straightens and his back arches just the tiniest bit, his breath will start moving a fraction heavier through his lungs.  His chest will rise and fall a little quicker, drawing my attention, stoking the growing fire burning within me.

 

Then his skin is sure to follow.  I love watching the change.  It’s subtle at first, but quickly his usually creamy paleness will become aglow with warmth, spreading up his neck and over his cheeks, coloring them a soft shade of pink.  An inviting hue that just beckons to be touched…to feel the heat that radiates from him.  And I know that even though his chest is still covered, the intricate lace pattern, giving away his growing state of arousal is there…even if I can’t see it, I know that it’s there.

 

And when I let my eyes gaze downwards, I know I’ll find that unmistakable and oh so familiar bulge, just begging to be touched or sucked.  I won’t be able to stop myself from grinning slightly as my eyes seem to magically strip away the material covering that tempting flesh and somehow, always, bring the familiar taste that I crave to my lips, as if his cock was already there.

 

But the best…the absolute fucking best is the sound he makes.  It’s like music to my ears.  A soft, low purr that shoots straight to my already aching dick and makes it pulse with anticipation.  As his eyes lock with mine and he sees what I reveal to him…only to him, the sound will deepen, the tone will change, unleashing his need and desire that he’s no longer able to control.

 

And that knowing, that feeling that I get from seeing all the changes, some obvious and some so minute that only the one that is the closest to him…the one that gets to be privy to those nuances of change…the one that is a part of that change…would know, are what really keeps me going, keeps me wanting and needing more. 

 

Because, like I said, I know him, and there’s not a thing in this world that makes me feel as great as having that privilege.             

 

“Briiii.”

 

“Yes, baby?”

 

“Please.”

 

“Alright, baby.”

 

Like I said, not a fucking thing.

 

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