The storm clouds, they gather; rolling in with the menace of electric whips and rumbling thunder, prematurely blackening the sky, defiling the morning just as this desire corrupts my mind and debases this body, this woman weakened by the want, the myopic want for you and only you, the craving for your power and domination, for each of the lustful urges that tear your flesh to easy shreds and scar your very soul, the grip of fingers in my hair, your hand at the curve of my throat, your mouth feeding the debauchery of your own need into my poised and glistening lips, the trailing touch of rough digits itching to bury themselves into my molten core, the sex, the cunt throbbing, silently screaming your name, the deluge between my legs, the ultimate betrayal of my enduring hunger, the hunger not merely for the cock straining hard against the fabric but also the feast of your kiss, our skin fused and gleaming with the carnality of our fucking, with the fire burning deep within, the flames engulfing, reducing to dust these bodies and just as quickly resurrecting, giving sweet life as we clutch and shudder, as we surge and cry out together, as the tempest rages in here and the now and the elsewhere for us both.

Her body
Born of passion

Her soul
Whispered creation

For you
On this day of
Four

 ~o~

 To my readers, friends and muses, to those close to my heart, to the ones of sheer and dazzling inspiration, it is your presence, your gaze that truly completes this picture, the final piece in the puzzle, in the images and words and the tangle of thoughts launched on a sultry spring day four years ago. My heartfelt thanks and gratitude for your communion, affection and unerring support, for the glorious gifts you bestow upon this very fortunate harbour city girl.

 ~Minx x

The touch isn’t yours
But it should be
This woman isn’t yours
But she could be

The lands of untamed beauty so close to my fair city, they burn, engulfed in soaring flames, savagely reduced to ash and dust and smoke that finds its way here to me, that suffocates the ether, that morphs the sun and transforms its golden rays into streaks of the cruellest platinum.

Bathed in this blistering heat, in this false and unforgiving luminosity, I ache for the loss; my heart shatters at the devastation. And yet, I wait now, bare and exposed and alone, my skin gleaming with the sheen, shivering in fevered want, needing, hungry for the ruin of our own unique blaze, the fire my body refuses to forget and erase, the sensual softness of your touch and the sweet violence of your flesh as you open and take and possess me, as you consume my very soul, as you kiss these lips, giving life, taking breath, as you slide yourself deep inside me, my cunt clutching and flooding, fingers and nails scratching and drawing the blood that thunders through your veins, your hips thrusting the force of man into my feminine fragility, the thick hard cock that knows me and perfects me, fucks me and devours me, marks me and fills me until I come, until I break, until I cry out like an anguished animal on the brink of defeat.

Somehow, someway.

Through oceans and lands and the sky up above, through the silence and the stillness, through the clamour and the bustle and the crowd pressed in tight, they found me.

Somehow, someway.

Through the days and the months and the years, through lost and lonely nights, through the dreaming on empty mornings, through my wanton lusts and sensual yearnings, through this desire’s threat to tear my supple flesh to easy shreds, they knew me.

Somehow, someway.

Through the verse, through the prose, in every line and word and syllable, in each breath and sigh, whisper and growl, you touched and caressed my mind, glimpsed then memorised this body, inflaming the longings I could scarcely admit, etching into my skin the passions that coursed through your veins, igniting the feminine curves that even now hunger for your strength and possession, to have you plunge into these clutching velvet depths, to have you wild at heart and free and abandoned, to have you mark yourself in the glistening fire dripping onto the softness between my legs, scorching a path of need into the purity stretched taut on the bed.

Somehow, someway.

Through the beginning and the ending, through the space of the in-between, the words came for me, you came to me, bringing this woman time and again to her knees, your kiss the sweetest recognition, your hands proof of pleasure without inhibition, your hardness given, your thickness taken, the pearl nestled in your cockhead devoured, your mouth and its smile, the arms wound about me, bodies and souls for a brief beautiful moment bound together as one.

You live in the sigh, in this body’s rapturous arc, in the yearning buried deep in my bones, in the flutter, in the rush, in the softness of this skin and the dripping violence between my legs, in the gleam that prickles this flesh each time your voice comes flooding back, in the night before as I open this woman to these primal desires, as I drench and tangle and knot the sheets on my bed, in the morning after when I invariably hunger, when these lips long to know, long to know you, long to dress you in scarlet smudges, in teasing caresses, in long deep passionate kisses.

Baby… Come… Come back… Come back to me… There’s no need to deliberate… There’s little need to speak… Bathe yourself in this brand new day… Cleanse your nakedness in its radiance… Immerse yourself in the here and now… As you once again hold and know my body… As you once again fill your lungs with desire’s heady scent… As you once again surrender completely… As you once again allow yourself to disrobe your passions and shed your aching skin… As you once again crave the fusion of our hot sweet ragged breath… As you once again hunger for the woman before you and the merging of our souls and this flesh…

The velvet shadows swathe me, possess me, sensually arc this expectant body,
surrendering this aching desire, this trembling femininity to the light, to its potency,
to its caressing lustre, the precursor to your own gleaming and provocative touch.

It is the kiss that transforms me.

It is the caress of his lips as we begin to wake, the seductive scrape of his beard along the curve of my back, the glide of his mouth chasing the streaks of the sun and the marks of our passion sinfully spent in the dark, the touch trembling, stilled by the heart, by the breath, by the woman softly, quietly, rising and falling, the flesh hard and oiled and throbbing plunging into the aching depths of the forbidden, sinking into the velvet embrace of the craved, of the unknown.