Sexy Readings with Joker
Joker420
This is a controversial passage from 'God of Small Things' I don't have a problem with it. Do any of you think it's too much? (I read this age 14, this is a book intended for adults)
Ammu, naked now, crouched over Velutha, her mouth on his. He drew her hair around them like a tent. Like her children did, when they wanted to exclude the outside world. She slid further down, introducing herself to the rest of him. His neck. His nipples. His chocolate stomach. She sipped the last of the river from the hollow of his navel. She pressed the heat of his erection against her eyelids. She tasted him. She felt his belly tighten under her, hard as a board. She felt her wetness slipping on his skin. He took her n****e in his mouth and cradled her other breast in his calloused palm. Velvet gloved in sand paper.
Once he was inside her, fear was derailed and biology took over. The cost of living climbed to an unaffordable heights; though Baby Kochamma would say it was a small price to pay.
She lay against him, their bodies slick with sweat. She felt his body drop away from her. Her breath became more regular. She saw his eyes clear. He stroked her hair, sensing that the knot that had eased in him was still tight and quivering in her. Gently, he turned her over on her back. He wiped the sweat and grit from her with his wet cloth. He lay over her, careful not to put his weight on her. Small stones pressed into the skin of his forearms. He kissed her eyes. Her ears. Her breasts. Her belly. Her seven silver stretch marks from her twins. The line of down that led from her navel to her dark triangle, that told him where she wanted him to go. The inside of her legs, where skin was softest. The carpenter's hands lifted her hips and an untouchable tongue touched the inner-most part of her. Drank long and deep from the bowl of her.P
Ammu, naked now, crouched over Velutha, her mouth on his. He drew her hair around them like a tent. Like her children did, when they wanted to exclude the outside world. She slid further down, introducing herself to the rest of him. His neck. His nipples. His chocolate stomach. She sipped the last of the river from the hollow of his navel. She pressed the heat of his erection against her eyelids. She tasted him. She felt his belly tighten under her, hard as a board. She felt her wetness slipping on his skin. He took her n****e in his mouth and cradled her other breast in his calloused palm. Velvet gloved in sand paper.
Once he was inside her, fear was derailed and biology took over. The cost of living climbed to an unaffordable heights; though Baby Kochamma would say it was a small price to pay.
She lay against him, their bodies slick with sweat. She felt his body drop away from her. Her breath became more regular. She saw his eyes clear. He stroked her hair, sensing that the knot that had eased in him was still tight and quivering in her. Gently, he turned her over on her back. He wiped the sweat and grit from her with his wet cloth. He lay over her, careful not to put his weight on her. Small stones pressed into the skin of his forearms. He kissed her eyes. Her ears. Her breasts. Her belly. Her seven silver stretch marks from her twins. The line of down that led from her navel to her dark triangle, that told him where she wanted him to go. The inside of her legs, where skin was softest. The carpenter's hands lifted her hips and an untouchable tongue touched the inner-most part of her. Drank long and deep from the bowl of her.P
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