Whole

The crips night air sizzles

in anticipation.

In the darkness, I can be

anything I desire:

I desire...

I crave...

only to be consumed

by you.

No flowers,

no chocolates,

no heart-shaped box full of

love letters

can ever replace the

ecstasy

I feel

when

your skin touches mine.


Please, I whisper.


Please...

Please...

Please...

Please...dominate me...

with your love.


You're on the rise

as I stroke your thighs..

on my knees,

gazing up,


waiting.


I crave your desire...dripping

onto my open lips:

I drink deep – good girl -

my soul's nourishment.


Slowly,

I lick my way

down

down

down

to the root of your soul.

You moan, out of control -

as my tongue

slips up, up, up

to suckle

the tip -

and anticipate the

boiling point,

the eruption

of

desire...


But not yet.


Your fingers find my swollen globes,

stiff

with longing...

pleading...

begging...

for rough fingers to

slowly circle

each ridge

until my breath...catches...

my thighs...tremble...

my core...

screams in

explosive rapture.


You bite my lips,

feel the buck of my hips.

Can you tame me?

Contain me?

Unleash the pain

I crave?

Twist my hair in

your fist.

I feel you – swollen -

demanding what's yours.

Demanding what I am

always so eager

to

give.


Your lips muffle

my sighs but,

instead of silenced – I soar

under

your touch -

almost too much

to bear.


The deeper you stroke,

the harder I fall.

You tie me up with my

screams.


I'm under

your spell when I'm

under

you. 

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