Silent Crescendo
After our passion faded and you drifted off to sleep, I finished what we started. Alone, in the quiet dark.
After his breath fades, there's a tremor beneath the sheets. a whisper of movement, as the bed shifts gently. He sleeps soundly, beside me, His breath deep and slow, unaware of my fingers; slick, circling, urgent in their rhythm. Almost there. Almost. But the mattress groans, and I freeze, heart slamming ribs, waiting. Did he stir? No. The dark holds his silence. My hips lift, rising upward, pressing into my own touch. Ha...