Your mouth on me.
The chaos of its unrelenting want. The blur of lips and tongues. My body jolted back to life with each connection of wet hunger and gleaming skin.
Your cock deep inside me.
The thickness of your flesh and the cry from my lips and the heat of my melting cunt. The fusion of our bodies and the flavour of your soul on my tongue.
This is all it takes. Two seemingly simple movements, two mere moments of pleasure.
And I am enslaved.
And I am yours.
I could spill thousands of words on each erotic detail, on every sharp intake of breath, on every touch that reduces our skin to shivering gooseflesh. But it wouldn’t be enough. They are never enough.
Because without you, without your body against mine, without my body against yours, without your fingers wound in my tresses guiding my mouth to your glistening shaft, without the genuflecting woman before you who aches to worship every inch of your flesh, without the fire of your voice on my skin, without my legs around your waist as you fuck me, without the intimacy of our kiss and the carnal savagery of this lust, without your come anointing my most sacred place, the words are nothing, nothing but ghosts and echoes.
