Re: Promenade; Elevator [Adult]
The concubine knew the bite of pebbles on palms and knees. She knew head down, and I don't want to see your face when I fuck you. She knew call me daddy, and she knew don't you dare tell my wife, and she knew the Lord thinks you're an aberration. She knew how to take it in every hole, and she knew how suck a man down until his knees buckled. She knew how to like the pain of hands tangled yank tight in the slithering tresses atop her head. She knew sit there, and she knew let me look at you, and she knew touch yourself for me. Most of all, she knew bruises that made her moan. She longed for hands around her throat, tightening until there was nothing left but stars in a mockery of the world where the sun shone.
This woman in pink wasn't like those men, and the concubine knew there was more cruelty in women than anyone understood. She knew it the same way she knew life didn't stir in her chest, and she knew it the same way she knew that she would never be worthy of God's intercession. She could live a life on her knees, and it would only be for the pleasure of others, and there was nothing that could change that.
With all of that, the request still made her blink those bottomless black eyes, the long lashes sticking to each other in defiance. Even the palpitating strands of black stilled.
"Do with us what--"
"She doesn't want that," the concubine interrupted. "She doesn't want to be the one who does things."
The strands of hair hissed amongst each other, sibilant incoherency, and the sounds faded into quiescence. The concubine's fingers stilled, and for a pinprick there was nothing.
When the the black tangle moved, it was mercilessly and without warning. Three coal sections parted, and the concubine knelt back and withdrew her fingers. One thick twine of black snaked up the pink of the bride's dress, leaving soot and surrender in its wake. It prodded at the bride's mouth, bruising and demanding her kiss, while the other two sections of stygian slithering lost themselves beneath the dusty pink dress, shoving forward and toward the holes there, venom slicking the ends and making them both stinging and slippery.