HIS CURVY OBSESSION

KS

sweet voice wrapped in fury greets me. She is f

man, maybe fifty years old and p

retail stores to bugger innocent, tired staff," she lashes out without stopping. Her voice vibrati

dds, jerking a bottle of perfume out of his hand. I stand by t

puffs his chest, trying to tow

fabric of her gown. Her chin tilted up and her shoulders arched, pushing her chest: pair of full breasts, that moves with every jagged breath she takes. She

l re

me to my

ll, and fierce. The type I never knew I wante

misbehavior, hunt you down, and play them for your boss. Then I'll send them to your kids'

pleased to consider myself one of them. No. I will becom

ess the joy out of me. Out of ev

her, and storms out, stopping right in front of me. I tilt my he

ds of the dress, are luscious curves that beg to be grabbed, whipped, a

m, and he exhales

otices me by the door, perfume bottle raised up in her hand. Our eyes

quick, ninety-degree bow. Her first words to me. I don't care what happened with that man

e is usuall

It is redundant to repeat yourself. It is also my test. Apart from the bedroom,

. She blinks, her heart rate quickening through the fabric of her clothes

eyes, she pulls it down. Time seems to slow, stretching each second into a minute an

nhaling her intoxicating scent, feeling the heat of her skin

a loud, difficult gulp. I want her. Tha

er waist, pulling her closer, feeling the richness of every bit of her body be

forget how to say anything but my name" Her eyes fl

ath in. Was it her scent? rage? The way she st

ce with round, puffed cheeks on an oval face. Her lips

observe and her e

mask?" Every woman aroun

n it," she replies, her voice regaining softness. I nod, taking my