Four margaritas

Four margaritas    
later with a sink  
filled with  
dishes and    
a half eaten cake  
   
he told me to    
cover my eyes  
and take off my clothes.  
   
I stepped out of my shorts  
then my panties,  
wafted them at him  
and giggled.  
   
I smiled at the groan in his chest  
as I stood in a tank top,  
stomach taut,  
long legs flexed  
hair cascading down  
my back.  
   
I closed my eyes,  
and felt him  
pick up my    
panties  
before he peeled  
off my shirt.    
   
And like always,  
he gently  
took my shoulders,  
and gently    
guided me to  
the bedroom,  
and gently kissed  
the back of my neck  
as if I were    
a glass orb  
he was charged  
with keeping  
from touching the ground  
   
Happy birthday,    
(babyluv)  
he whispered.  
   
You can look.  
   
He pulled the panties    
around my head
as I opened my eyes,    
and he tightened them  
across my jawline,  
so I was gagged on the  
taste of my own pussy  
   
and my knees caved  
as his teeth sank into the    
trapezius bulge at the    
center of my shoulder  
   
I can still find a bruise with my fingers…  
   
His hands    
pressed into me  
as I took in the    
candles    
and the straps  
secured  
to each    
leg  
of    
the    
bed.  
   
   
(Interlude)  
 
   
later,  
spent,  
   
the outline of my  
body on the sheet,  
the red marks on my    
smooth ass,  
and the small cuts in the  
corners of my mouth  
from screaming    
against my  
   
black lace panties  
   
offered testament  
that the best gifts  
   
are handmade.