image: Alex Hiller - Unsplash

Exhale.

Your head rolls back. I can't help but groan at the sight of your neck.

Exposed.

I sink my fingers in.
Into the skin, my blessing. Into the muscle, the strength. Into the hair, your vulnerability.

Your eyes look at me.

They really look at me.

In joy and delight as my teeth skim my lips. As my shoulders press back and my breasts force themselves towards you.

You smile.

I bury my hands into your hair. A word, a feeling, a sensation forms at the back of my throat. It tries to escape. To formulate as the weight of your presence presses down upon me.

The sensation travels down to my hips. I push up to meet you. I push up to beg you. I push for you.

My head spins as all direction is lost. Your fingers are in my fingers. Your fingers are in my hair, my neck. Your fingers brush my breasts and I want to scream something non-coherent.

Instead, I breathe, into your neck. And you breathe, into my ear,
Onto my lips,
We are hung, lip to lip, breath to breath as our chests heave and expand against each other.

I am so ready for you. I slide against your thigh to show you where I am. To lead you to me. In this explosion of colour, this corridor of white noise

This way. I whisper. Here. Please. Right there

But you are far away. Your eyes are wild and your body is pulsing with power. I squeal in delight as you grasp me. I am yours. You own me in the way you own yourself. Your hands they pick me up and we are swept away.

Recklessly we grab for each others skin. You enter me and we collide in fits passion.

The room is spinning faster, but my hands are firmly upon you. Your shoulders, your back your arms. I grab for your fingers. Something to ground me as my hips climb higher.

I want to sink my teeth into you. To scream into your veins.
Holy fuck.
Please don’t stop