Janusz Leon Wisniewski. Bed (№ 179387)

Waiting. In this, perhaps, the mystery of the Spanish phenomenon of "penetration". Wait, do you even pulsing pads, swells and heaving of the chest, you lick parched lips, for the hundredth time, corrected a pillow, squeeze, then throw the hips. Worried, you think minutes that seem like hours you. Waiting for the creaking door, breaking through the darkness the beams of light from the hallway, the sound of his steps. And when he's finally with you, even though you're naked, you want him to undress even more.