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.

I miss you.

And the way things used to be.

And the way we were together.

And the fire – our fire – that would threaten to annihilate us both, sparked by the simplest word, the briefest gaze, the smallest sigh, the mere brush of bodies and fingers and trembling lips.

And the instant I felt you, felt you inside me, felt you deep in my flesh and my bones, felt you and your gaze and your weight and your voice as new and unknown and yet just like home.

And that moment, that one perfect moment where time stood still and the distance between us contracted and you genuinely craved my warmth, my truth, where we laid each other bare, stripped away the fear, the hesitation, all pretence, where we confessed it all with intimacy and absolution, where we revealed like never before, where we merged with lust and sin and tenderness, where we stood on the precipice, on the brink of something real, something more.

And the freedom of this desire – this desire for you – the freedom to feel it, to speak it, to live it and breathe it, to fuck it, to kiss and touch and devour each other until we moan and clutch and scream and come, until our bodies tremble in exhausted bliss, until they silently beg again for the glistening heat, to fuck you, to fuck it and fuck it up so absolutely you will dress me in your angry silence and cold resentment and I will shed big hot furious tears, to fuck it up, to tear us apart, to piece the shreds back together again with passion, with lightness, with careful words softly spoken, with easy steps and a gentle caress, with gestures verging on affection, on love.

The day breaks in softness, its hushed tones and muted voices merging with the memory of the night and its darkly wanton edges, enveloping the curves feminine, whispering to my sensual passions, to the woman reaching out, arching up, longing to receive your touch.

And once you meet me, once your hands finally unearth me, once they ease this suppleness open, once your caress begins to know, my body trembles, shivers, moves from order into chaos, overtaken by its yearning to shatter all boundaries between us, to feel you melt into this velvet ache, into the skin always desperate, impatient for the sweet burn of your kiss.

You feel it. You sense it. I know.

Even as it is laid out here for you, in shades of grey, in black and white, for your eyes to clearly gaze upon and see, the reflection threefold, her and her and her, her and them and me, I know you scarcely require this fractured image before us both to sense it, to crave it, to seek out and inspire the multiplicity within me, the varied facets of my lust, the desires that scream through this body and mind, that rise up through my skin at each and every given moment as I inhale your scent, as I breathe you in, as you move in close, as you press your nakedness in tight, as the first touch of your hands along the curve of my litheness betrays an urgency, a carnal ferocity I hunger right along with you through the night, as you pull aside the sodden lace between my thighs and plunge the hard ache of your cock inside me in one selfishly perfecting sinuous stroke, as my sweet cunt soaks you, takes you, envelops and milks you yearning for the fire of your seed, my grinding hips, my pouting clit, my wet wanton sex, the nails drawing blood, digging into flesh at odds with the sensuality of my moan, my mewl, the hands wound about your nape, the whispers uttered from these lips, my passionate and searching kiss.

You feel it. You sense it. You recognise and yearn for it. Lover, this much I know.

You and me
Shutters closed
At last alone
Craving nothing more
Than each other

Soaring into the night sky, bathed in neon, caressed by these city lights, I breathlessly await the perfection of your touch, the fingers dancing on this skin, your strong arm wound about my waist, the urgent hands drawing my hungry nakedness into the throbbing ache of your heat, the voracious cock nudging at the lips sodden with my lust, the thumb feeding itself into the mouth whimpering its need, the bodies locked together deep, pressed hard into the glowing crystal screen, our abandoned passion threatening to shatter glass and souls and flesh to dust.

For a touch… Just one touch… For a touch of your noir…

For a moment, for an hour, for a day, a week, a lifetime… For your hands, your lips, your mouth upon me… For your passion dark, abandoned, seething… For the body, for the flesh throbbing, insistent, incessant… For the man, for the beast, for you here in my bed, possessing the heat of my arching form, your dripping cock embedded to the breathtaking hilt in my sweet cunt…

For a touch… Just one touch… For a touch of this noir…