Pussy is Goddess.
Most don’t truly understand this. Not most women and certainly not most men. Many sense it on a subconscious level, but few grasp the true nature of the Goddess. Terrifying and compelling, to be consumed completely by the fires of worship. Sacrificial offerings have to be made.
The bartended set two glasses on the bar in front of us.
“What’s this?” His eyes left my face for the merest nanosecond as he reached for his glass.
“Sex with the Goddess. Absinthe and damiana liqueur.” I lifted my own glass and sipped.
He continued to stare into my eyes. “I’d rather have the real thing.”
I stood at the bar, sipping my drink. My body hummed, electric. Even though he was sitting, and I was wearing 3-inch heels, we were still eye-to-eye. His eyes were cerulean, the color of a cloudless summer sky. I held them captive with my own. I turned my body to face him, standing in the V between his knees, close enough to feel his heat. “We’ve talked about that. Not a good idea. A dead end.”
Without responding, he reached around and cupping my hip in his hand, pulled me in close so that our torsos were touching. He took my hand and held it against his cheek for a moment. It was smooth and closely shaved and warm. Never taking his eyes from mine, he lightly kissed my fingers. His lips were as warm as his cheek. Gently, his opened my hand and touched his lips to my palm. I held his gaze with icy resolve. He delicately bit the pad of each finger in turn, sucking lightly on the thumb.
“You’re playing with matches here, little boy.”
His gaze never shifted, challenging. “What are you going to do about it?”
My eyes never leaving his, I moved my fingertips across his lips, barely parting them to feel the moist warmth within. I leaned in close to his cheek as I moved my hand up the opposite cheek, around his neck and into his hair. Flexing my fingers gently on the back of his head, I breathed slowly across his cheek, down his neck and back up, to whisper in his ear, “I’m going to burn your fucking house down.” I clenched my fist in his hair and jerking his head back and covering his mouth with mine, kissed him hard and long, drawing a low moan from him as I tested his will with my tongue.
His body’s response was the expected one, and just as I felt the vibration pass through him, I released him and stood back. “Meet me outside.”
The bartender lay the tab on the bar for him to sign as I walked away toward the door, not looking back.
