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Pounds of Pressure

By @LeChevalierRoland


He smiled, taking in the sight before him. Denim trapped the curved length of her thighs in a close encasing. The skin of her hips was warm beneath his hands, creamy milk tainted by little brown flecks. The girl looked down at him. She was a curious creature, completely uncomfortable and yet so at home in his living room.

It was the schnapps. Warm peppermint bubbling inside the cavity of her chest caused her limbs to loosen, expression softening before his eyes. He loved it.

“Your hair tickles, you know,” she touched his jaw with the tips of her fingers.

He laughed, “Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m not a huge fan of ****** hair,” she bit her lip thoughtfully. “Hmm, but maybe you’re better off with it.”

“I need it for work.”

She giggled, “Right. You don’t want to look like a little boy.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a malicious grin. Moving his hand to her throat, he thrust against her. “I’m a man. Don’t forget that.”

The girl quivered beneath his fingers. She loved this; He knew. She had come to him, pretending meek innocence. Time was wasted every week on movies and anime, a pretext. There was nothing innocent about this one. Clothing hid lines and marks, deep purple blossoms he had graced her with during heated moments in the kitchen. It was never enough for her.

“Yes,” she whispered, tilting her chin up.

He watched her squirm, “I could crush your windpipes so easily.”

Her eyes flew open, lips parted. Red spread across her cheeks as he held her gaze.

“Just a couple pounds of pressure, that’s all it takes.”

He pressed down harder. The color drained from her face. She could breathe, but just barely. He saw the way her chest moved, heart pumping furiously to bring life-giving oxygen to her lungs. He felt her pulse jump as his grip got tighter and tighter, fear tainting her visage. 

He released her.

“But that would be no fun.”

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