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I'd see him look, unable to not look, as the buzz ofothers' words, the music from so long ago, the clink of glass the shockof laughter cutting through, the sounds all rising, swelling until we twowere isolated in a tiny space of unheard words and unsaid thoughts.A wall of sound around the still and silent eddy that enfolds us. Hiseyes rising slowly from the valley of my front, caressing that smooth Vof skin, that curve of throat, the red plush of my lips, my dark framedglowing eyes. Eyes gazing into eyes, green eyes into my Grey, imaginingthat through the dark opening of iris we could see a soul, that a gazemight so softly touch the intangible other, make him uncurl so you cangape at the wonder of his size, the colors he is to share with you.My eyes, pretending not to see him gazing down my front, fixed on hishands resting, so large they cover mine, the heavy skin stretched overthe knobs of knuckles barely containing the strength that pulses throughthe thick veins that feed his. His hand clutching at my hair tighter told me I was on the right track. Abruptly he let go of my hair and pulled away from me, I almost lost my balance because I had been leaning against him. I glanced at him fearfully, thinking I had done something to displease him. But I realized that he was unbuttoning his shirt and pants. "May I help you, Master?" I inquired. A brief nod was given and I walked over and slipped his shirt off his shoulders, placing it on the chair next to us. Then my hands moved down to his pants and finished unbuttoning them, sliding them down his legs. After he stepped out of them, I turned and folded them carefully and set them on the chair as well. He always went commando. I felt him come behind me and grasp my shoulders. I remained still and shivered slightly as he moved my hair and kissed my neck. His right hand snaked around my front and grasped my neck. He didn't squeeze, just let me know he was in control. Then he let go. His left hand pulled my shirt back.
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