All of the Drama — Flashback

Next week, will be Mathilda meeting Harry—this week the last time they met…

Sabrina was silent, she wanted to pretend she was a shadow. Harry jumped out of the bed, erection bobbing and wrapped his arms about her. From there, she turned from a shadow to stone. His warm body felt like ice to her, because she was shocked and because she had not been with him for such a long time.

“Sabrina,” he said, looking in her eyes. She looked at him, and beyond him. “I thought you left me, I thought I was alone.”

She supposed she could not fault him for feeling like that since she had not spoken to him in over a month. She had not answered anything he sent, and had been sleeping with Graham the entire time.

“Yes, I am just keeping Harry company,” Harry’s curvaceous partner padded over to them, and put her hand on Sabrina’s. Harry looked at the woman like she was a ghost, and Sabrina remained stony.

“This is Charlotte,” Harry stated as if he had to. “And yes she is just here because you were not.”

“You’re beautiful,” Charlotte said, standing before Sabrina. Sabrina stared as Charlotte moved in closer and closer. Their kiss was soft, and Sabrina felt compelled to put her arms about her.

Sabrina had no idea what she wanted right now emotionally, but sexually with this saucy woman and Harry who she had missed and craved was too tempting for her to say no.

Unlike the foursome that they had had with Gui and Carole with the mirror overhead, the mirror was to the side as she watched Charlotte slither like a python between her legs, all of her curves on view as she did. The mirror captured the dark desire between Sabrina and Harry, as he took her from behind. Charlotte worked herself over thoroughly, as the animalistic coupling took place shifting her on the bed. Harry felt like he always had inside her, but so removed from him he looked different. Even as her body trilled from the resounding way he made her come, she knew that she would not stay there after.

There was nothing to talk about.

It was a dark symphony, as her trilling still from orgasm body shakily rose from the bed. Charlotte still slithered on the covers, and Harry looked and sounded thunderous as he said, “No!”

In the mirror, it looked like a pornographic opera that would never take centerstage at the Met, but was more dramatic than anything that could ever be presented there.

More Masturbation Monday here: