Her Story

I knew I would touch her I just didn’t know where and when, scenes I’ve played out of my mind well before this evening; the things I’d do to her, the positions I’d put her in, and the words that I’d leave her screaming. Her body spoke of confidence in languages she’s yet to understand, the way she looked at me, the touch of her hands, and the shit said …man damn. She was in control and now my body was her playground. I submitted while being gifted as she climbed on top of me, she shifted her body then she started watching me. My moans became the only voice she seek, so I just closed my eyes threw up hands up and let her do her thing to me. She rocked me, rocked me steady. I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven only to blessed with something more heavenly, this shit was scary to me. I was nervous but I knew in my reality this shit was real, she was real. I just felt like if I opened my eyes this Queen would disappear. So her body became Braille and I read her story as each syllable collapsed around me. I poured myself into her deeply embedded between the folds of her sheets, she made seconds feel like minutes and hours feel like eternity. I read her from the beginning to end, tracing her with my fingertips until she was ready to start all over again. And when we were done her body spoke to me, now in moans, shivers, and juices flowing onto the sheets. This was her autobiography!
-Valerie Rene’a


Author: Valerie Rene'a

Author of Naked Tales and Hidden Desires and 52 Sandy Lane

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