Whipped

“Hey, before we go in. I want you to know this only goes as far as your comfortable. The minute you want to stop, we stop.” His statement is so Bobby. He’s always so unflappable, whether it’s on the football field or at her front porch. What would it take to make him squirm? Just once she’d like to see him lose control.

“I’m all in, lover boy. Let’s go.” Her heart pounds in her chest. Courage doesn’t drive her. Her desire is precipitated by the need to do something, enjoy something, control something.

“Lover boy, huh? Is that going to be my nickname?” Still on the doorstep, he runs his lips up her neck to the lobe of her ear.

“It depends. Can you live up to it? It’s a big undertaking.” On her tiptoes she kisses his mouth, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth, she bites down. The pressure isn’t enough to hurt, just enough to remind him she’s been there.