I need you
In the night
When my craving
Overtakes me
When thoughts of you
Will not leave me be

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

It takes all of her strength not to reach out to him.

It takes every ounce of her self-control not to arch up to meet the hand adorned by the crisp, white cuff and platinum link, not to give her body over to his touch familiar and new, possessing and sweet. It takes all of her restraint, all of her will not to give in to the urge to trail her slender fingers over the smoothness of the gleaming leather, to run her hands up along the warmth radiating through the charcoal wool, to map the muscular calves, the tensing thighs, to tease and stroke then devour the throbbing hardness nestled between his legs, to splay herself, open herself, reveal her fiery brightness to the flesh that perfects her. It takes everything she has, everything she is not to instinctively surrender to the passions, the impulses, the carnality this man inspires with little effort and action.

It takes everything, all things, this desire for him. It takes, it strips, it breaks, it pieces her together again.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

Once the darkness descends, once the moonlight beams through, once the sapphire glow of the night engulfs the room, the shadows, the spectres, they come for her. They come for her desiring flesh, for her skin fair and blushing, for the body ever reaching for his alluringly forbidden touch. They come to feed on its fire, its need, to coax its secrets chaste and corrupt. They come, winding in and around her, pressing hard and tight against her, pinning down their woman, seductress, their lover. They come mapping her, marking her with certainty, with obscurity, their trace a cruel reminder of her longing for him, to have him, to have him in her bed, between her lips, in her cunt bright, greedy, glistening.

They come, they come, alone and together, they come.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

The thought of you
Guides
My body to the floor
Persuades
My flesh to bathe in the bright
Compels
My fingers to feel, touch, caress
Sways
My hips to grind deep, groove right

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

Through the dark of night
Across skies and lands and seas
I’ll be your star
I’ll be your light
I’ll guide your way
Back here
To me

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to wish him a
Happy 6th HNT Anniversary and to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

Wrap yourself
In cotton crisp
In feathers fine
In woman wanting, warm and willing

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

In the end, it is her very own hand that betrays her: it is the vein rippling her ordinarily fair, silken surface; it is the blood, slick and fiery, coursing with a maddening need; it is the slight tremor of the slender digits curved in aching readiness to caress the skin crying out for his flesh, screaming out for release; it is her perpetually desiring body that offers her up, proving to him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she is his present, she is his past, she is his seductively sweet and carnal hereafter.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

Let me be
The pink
The state of your purest pleasure

Let me be
The one
The temptress in your mirror

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

His gaze. His gaze. His gaze.

It transforms light into shadow, shadow into dark molten desire. It compels her to offer up her flesh for sacrifice, for worship, for debasement. It strips her bare, destroys her inhibitions, shreds every last vestige of her naked shame. It whispers, it speaks, it screams at her, to her, with a recognition that possesses the wanton terrain. It lures her to him time and again, tempting the woman, enticing the lover, binding the whore, caressing the erotic longings on her very surface, grasping the carnality buried deep within.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

You craze
You burn
Transform me

You melt
You forge
Create me

With white heat
With platinum fire
With a piece of your blinding sun

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)