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by Koh Hee Ja
The blade against her palm winks brightly as she cradles the knife like a baby.
I groan into her sweaty hair and grind my hips, excited by the danger caught between us.
She nicks my stomach only once during the act, and a scarlet dribble slides down our abdomens and adds to the mess we are making below.
Flesh yields deeply, wetly; the exquisite heat enveloping us.
When we step apart, the body slumps, skull rebounding off the cracked linoleum, and a pretty arc of scarlet spatters over her pale toes.
This wasn’t the three-way he was expecting.
Koh Hee Ja
Koh Hee Ja is a new writer taking a happy stab at whatever she fancies.