And so woke an envious mind a subtle craving a gentle image grasping at dreams… … the bottle between your hands the glass between your fingers the neck at your lips Your tongue saturated nectar spilling into your mouth and the way your eyes caress her curves seconds before you place the ice cold bottled beer to your lips and she quenches your primal thirst.
A kiss, tender passion filled need as the world twirls as butterflies swirl as you pull me deep within your grasp. Warm lips, wet tongues, tasting, sipping, biting, saliva entwining. Igniting, the imploding need of sacral fires burning, rising, tippy toes, pushing forward, faster, deeper. Two souls alit. Desire, need, lust, fighting to explode, skin a sensory puzzle of excitement, a visual play of energy as the soul becomes the rawest of all erogenous zones, tingling, waking, burning, aching… Kiss me, just fucking kiss me.
He embraced me, with my heart in pieces, his fingers held me tight within his grasp, collected up the fragments and put them high upon a shelf. He didn’t try to fix me, said, I was perfect as I came. Still, his love became the glue and the pieces spelled his name. I found lust among his kisses, a primal calling of a mate, and strength within his arms that surround me late at night. He’s the passion in my essence, the power in my voice, the gentle loving kisses he is my every choice. I gather up his pieces and take him as he comes in lust, desire, love and need, I know he is the one.
Your essence scatters through me in broken fragments. Whispered traces of ancient maps penetrating my psyche, your scent I crave as it lays across my skin caressing the contour of my hip with sweet lips and a sugar cane tongue that pleads to be tasted. Look at this chaos of love that is spilling through me in hues of liberated need. The paint strokes of a lover laying his name upon his art my soul wears the calligraphy of your lust in swirling circles of vivid pink. An unboundless love that swarms on the warm curve of your voice, tangling me in your need.
Feel not the strength of my force but the depth of my passion. Feel me as I pull you under the air pulled from your lungs as I circle your body. Feel me as you sink further in, your eye’s lost in mine as I create a cyclone of desire. Feel me as I devour your soul in one single wave of ecstasy. Feel me as I wrap myself around your body, feel me as excitement builds, Feel me as my energy rises, Fell me as my strength recovers, Feel me as I explode against you in orgasmic rush. Feel the depth of my passion as I pull you under.
… His words taste like the outer corners of lust, coveted by dark shadows. A curse of black mist rising in me. If I am the succubus then he is my master, puppeteering my desire, fingering my needs to his command. His touch is the black leather choker at my slender neck. His voice the liberating echo of passion that lubricates my strings….and in his eyes is the promise of a million kisses, each one new, deep, purposeful. Each kiss overflowing with lust, each kiss a binding promise of trust, each kiss an exchange of power… And if I am his succubus, a vessel of need then he is my master and from him alone I feed, for there in his kisses, his touch and his eyes, is an abundance of love filling my skies.