Conversation
She was the type who talked at the most inappropriate times: funeral sermons, theater performances, school recitals, sex…
The sex bothered him the most.
It wasn’t just that she talked; it was that she expected conversation. Who wanted to have a conversation during sex? It was a conversation all on its own! And hell hath no fury if he didn’t respond… That, or else the sex would end right then and there.
Of course, he could never tell her that.
“You’re making that face again.”
“What face?” Blonde hair falling around her like a halo, eyes a smokey hazel-green that cut through him. For all her verbal shortcomings, he would never call her unintelligent.
“Just admit that you wouldn’t know what to do if I was silent.”
“I… uhh… You know I love your voice.” Shit.
“Mm-hm… You love it so much that you wouldn’t mind if we stopped right here and just had a nice, intimate chat, right?” She had him by the balls, and for once he wished it wasn’t literal.
…Then again, he had already thrown himself into the fire. “Do you really like hearing yourself talk that much?”
Oof! The feeling of her elbows suddenly jammed into his sternum was not comforting, and as erotic as it was to have a naked woman impaled and sprawled out skin-to-skin to his own body, the look in her eyes was dangerous as she cradled her cheeks in her hands. “Why, yes, I do.”
He saw a cold, cold shower looming in his future.
Hey,
Hehe, sexy and funny. You do have quite a talent for these kind of blurbs, you know? ^.~
Quite a bizarre trait you gave to that blonde girl. Although, that only makes the whole blurb the more interesting.
Keep on writing,
- César