On the Tiles

147_On the TilesLead me away from the crowd, from their prying eyes.

Then take me. Possess me. On the tiles. On the chill of the bathroom floor.

Bring your hands to my knees. Spread me open. Spread me shamelessly wide. Expose it all.

The ebony netting encasing my slender thighs. The lattice framing the nakedly wanton sex beneath. The succulence of the lips pouting and longing for your mouth between the diamond breaks in the weave.

And the petite and inviting tear at the very centre, in the sodden gusset already corrupted by own teasing fingers, the one now hovering above the entrance to my ravenous cunt, the one calling for your hands, begging for your fingers, waiting patiently for you to rend and rip and shred the mesh to easy pieces before you wrap my legs around your waist and slide your hard, thick cock inside me to the breathless, clutching hilt, without warning, without ceremony, only desire, this consuming desire, this desperate need to fuse our trembling flesh and surrender absolutely to temptation.

Restless Confessions

My body, my mind, they will not settle. And neither will the words.

They assault me, rush through me, as if they also know the frustration of this unfulfilled yearning, hitting hard the screen and the page, my fingers frantically typing, clutching like a lifeline the coolness of the stylus, the words screaming, outpacing, flitting through the fragments, details found then lost and overcome, darting from one page to another, too restless and desirous and uneasy to stay for a moment longer, to complete and realise the utterance forever twisting into knots my stomach, pulsing and glistening between my thighs, lingering on my lips and the tip of my tongue.

In the silence, in their wake, I look upon their trace, and all I see, all I feel is you.

You and your smile and the warmth of your hand and the sound of your laughter and the resonance of your voice and the minute round midnight your breath caught in your throat and your black gaze grew darker as I confessed on my knees the primal need for your blistering seed on every inch of my skin and deep inside my cunt and my womb, the intimacy my body craves through the day and its night, this fusion of man and woman, of you and me, this mark of your ownership, my possession of your hard aching sex, your name etched in my secret flesh with the force of your desire, with the roar of your body, with the very tremble of your soul.



I need your mouth.

I need your mouth on every inch of my shivering skin, on the rosy peaks of my breasts, on the delicate hollow of my hips.

I need your mouth on my cunt.

I need you to kiss me, lick me, devour me with ravenous abandon until I come – hot and hard – on your tongue.

And once your lips and beard are sodden with my lust, I need you to slide your naked cock deep inside my secret flesh. I need you to take and fuck and own this dripping sex until I moan and whimper, until I curse and invoke the almighty, until I scream over and again your name, until you fear the thrusts of the untamed animal possessing his prey might tear her shreds.

I need your mouth; I need you. I need it all so desperately I can barely think or breathe or live.



Provocateur. Femme fatale. Exotic temptress.

She will entice you with her sin and sensuality, lure you into her velvet decadence, arouse the noir goddess that sighs hotly in your depths.

She will take you by the hand and caress your softness, run her lips along your skin and bare your strength. She will leave you aching and glistening, trembling and breathless with need, anticipation, a passion and a darkness that takes you, body and soul, to the very carnal edge.

She will deliver all you can dream and imagine, all you dare to crave, all time and splendour, love and lust and nurture, 365 wondrous nights and days.


Wishing you all a blissful, prosperous and seductively provocative 2015

~Minx x