Scarlet Ribbons

An ode I wrote to A, shortly after our first impact scene

Your body tenses.
The sound of the belt clearing belt loops.
The rattle of the freed buckle.
The smell of leather in the air.
The light caress of my fingers on your skin
My hand winding through your hair, pulling your head back.
The delicious sound of the crack of leather against skin.
The feel of leather against your body.
The sting of the strike.
The hot breath on your skin.
The whispers in your ear.
Encouraging.
Filthy.
The belt as a brush.
Painting those scarlet ribbons on porcelain canvas.