Playing soft
I adore when they come struggling, the look of confusion on a man’s face as his body twists to mine. How can a woman — a girl — coax that cloudy blend of arousal and apprehension? I stay soft. I take my hands to his chest and and his thighs. I keep my nails short and stiff against the back of his neck. I bring my lips and a whisper of breath close to his ear, with not an inch of rope to bind him, just the words I’m unfurling.