Flex

I love my husband’s body.

It’s freckled and fair and lean and long and so.fucking.responsive.

If asked, I’d be hard pressed to pick my favorite part of his form.  But there is one particular grouping of muscles, in his lower abdomen, of which I am particularly fond.

I call them his Fuck Muscles.

They tense and tighten when he’s deep inside me, and running my fingertips over them makes them bunch and jump.

He can control his breathing, still his limbs, and relax every other muscle in his body.  But when I’m edging him – hands, mouth, teeth, toys – they are his telltale giveaway.  When his fuck muscles tighten, he cannot help their involuntary flex.

And that’s when I know it’s time to pull him back from the edge…

…and start again.