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 β 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 β swollen -
demanding what's yours.
Demanding what I am
always so eager
to
give.
Your lips muffle
my sighs but,
instead of silenced β 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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