There is a trembling breath as my fingertips follow the folds of her sex; as they slide up they collect the honey that already drips in beads down her firm little ass. That's my power, what flows from her pussy even before I get down to the actual business of spreading her legs.
The power of full lips, wet with anticipation and textured by bite marks that only serve to make everything more primal in the moment. The power of hands that know too well the trails they themselves blazed across her flesh. And still upon each passing of the route, they, the hands, find their ground soft and fertile. Receptive to touch. Ripe and sweet to taste, as I drag my tongue from her hungry mouth across plains of neck and should and the ridge of her collar. Her breast is heavy as my hand conforms to its roundness. The heaviness thrills me, as does the pucker of her skin under my kiss, and the stiffness my lips find slipping around her nipple. The power, not just of my warm mouth suckling her gorgeous tits, but also the power that lies in patience. After only fifteen minutes she is arching, clawing holes in the sheets, whimpering. She is almost ready to come, just from the relentlessness of my assault on her breasts.
And then my reward. She jumps as my fingers reach her clit and brush once, just around the outside, before coming to my lips. I meet her eyes when I taste her for the first time. More power. My power.
She's so wet three of my knuckles are soaked in seconds – no need for further foreplay now, she knows that I know what she needs, and she knows that I'm going to give it to her. That's her power. That she can make me give it to her whenever her aching cunt desires. With the power of a look. With the power of her walls clenching and sucking at my fingers, her hips rocking against my palm, riding, and even though I'm fucking her and I'm fucking her good and she knows it, she's fucking herself. Using my hand to fill her. Digging her brightly polished nails into my back and wrapping her impossibly long legs around my waist. Covering and protecting herself with me. Using me to shield her when is as open as she ever really gets.
She rides out her orgasm in my arms, jerking and spasming beneath me. Flooding my hand. Soaking the sheets. Choking back the scream she never lets loose because somewhere she had to train herself never to let it loose. Sometimes, when I'm fucking myself and thinking about fucking her, I make her let it loose, and it sounds like my name. If I did, would it be my power or hers? My power to make her scream... But when I dream about it, her screams make me come. And as I hold her while she catches her breath, beyond the pounding of her heart I can feel the pounding of my pussy, my clit twitching and begging, all because of her.
When I fuck her I am a god.
She has the power to make me a god.