Natalie's Flowers

The swaying light bulb dangles in a strobe of flickering light on his shoulders. He presses his body to hers, cupping her breast, and holds the erratic light steady. Their tongue’s touch, massaging with soft pushes as their parted lips meet. His hand grasps the waist of her black spandex pants, and he pulls one side askew, placing his palm on her panties, slipping his firm fingers underneath, separating her between the thighs.

Tingles flow down Natalie’s spine and pool— expanding behind her belly button like a bath is drawing warm water there, spreading, leaking down— wet.

Natalie turns around and takes hold of the coat rack with both hands. He rolls her pants and panties down to her ankles. She steps out, widens her stance, and bends over.

He enters her and presses gentle kisses on her taut neck. Natalie’s jaw extenuates in a gasp— her head tilts back in pleasure. She closes her eyes and cries out from the pulses of ecstasy.

A party guest drops a bundle of roses addressed for: Natalie on the floor.

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