Desire. This desire. My desire.
At this very moment, it is a burden, a cruel and vampiric drain that depletes all strength, all rationality, leaving me delicate and weak, inking my skin with impatience, marking the woman before you with an aching vulnerability, the nexus of her mind and soul and body nothing more than a raw and open wound of want, of need, of a craving so deep she is mended, reborn within your darkness and danger, within your protective embrace, your heated whispers and knowing caress, the passionate kisses devouring her surrender, the peaks of her breasts, the bare slickness of her sex, the sweet tears of release staining the blush high on her cheek.
oh my. minx.
if only i could take advantage of your vulnerability
i promise i’d be careful with it
How can a minx resist such an offer?
Sometimes melancholy is a blessing
Mike
The true blessing is found in your words, Mike…
Something to be truly thankful for on this Thanksgiving morn!
I thought this might be slightly more erotic than a pilgrim get-up!
wherever there is melancholy, i am near…
you know i love you, right?
happy holidays, you gorgeous vision :*
I know it deep in my bones, gorgeous… :*
It can be a vicious mistress, desire, I know her well.
My longing is that you find salve for those wounds of yours Cheeky Minx.
No one deserves whispers and kisses and open arms more than you.
I’m so touched, truly touched – thank you for the beautiful wishes, bhp…
It is this that we, with our entire passion, hope for, that we breathe and toil for, that binds us most strongly into life — that a single touch shall weave the fire now burning us into a scintillating crown, shall transform the dark blood now seeping from open wounds into brilliantly burning poems, stars; the beloved’s touch, a mere presence, yet a belonging deeper than the farthest star shall open us so wide that, extinguished to ourselves, we become an ‘us,’ a one, the entirety of life. A seed planted into us at the moment of our conception now blossoms singing this song, a seed now a flower seeking copulation, melting, union, and the ensuing fruit, a life of love…
Blessed be your vulnerability, and the sweet, painful song it sings.
I’m unsure I can pen a worthy response after such breathtakingly poetic words, Pierre.
You’re right, of course – this piece speaks of a vulnerability and need for the touch and union with another soul (often at the heart of our deepest desires). While I’m grateful for this capacity to feel and the words it inspires, I’m more thankful still that it has allowed me to find and hear your own sweet and erotic melody (both here and on your blog)…
Your vulnerability is a tender thing and yet takes so much courage to show.
Know your desire and vulnerability is held safely in my hands.
Being held safely in your palm takes me back to a place of strength and leaves me feeling grateful for your kindness and, of course, the beautiful words…
I’ve felt this kind of desire. I don’t LIKE this kind of desire, but there have been times when it has taken hold of me nonetheless. I feel you on this one.
Luckily, the desire I have for you is not like this. The desire I have for you, though burning, is not a burden. 😉
The slow burn works for me, VL. In so many delectable ways… 😉
your body is absolutely delightful….. stellar even..
“Stellar”… I haven’t heard that gorgeous adjective in a while.
I tip my (cowboy) hat to you in thanks, S S age…