Last night I dreamt I owned you.
You were perfect. Your warm throat molded to my fingers and your kisses tasted of fear and desire. Silky straight were the lines I traveled. Your heat rose through you, naked and limber, until your bared intentions shook themselves free. Clothed in flesh, they were your better self.
You were a gift, the spoils of victory, and your tears of joy washed me clean of sin.
These are the moments of decision, the tipping places. On one side is curiosity and hunger, the other safety and sanity. My touch is light, light enough to guide you, light enough to make shadows of your doubts.
And the perfect tears you wept were like flecks of gold against the black satin of your surrender. They melted on your skin like honey, draped in molten drops along your thighs for me to lick clean.
That’s just…hott.
And a pretty-ass piece of writing.
kissykiss,
chelsea girl
YEP . chelseagirl said it .. HOT.. pretty ass piece of writing.. although I would have said.. pretty ass piece of WORK. .. just cause.. grin.. thanks for sharing.. I do love your words!
Such dreams are the pulse of life. What beautiful words you have shared, thank you.
xoxo,
nina
“And the perfect tears you wept were like flecks of gold against the black satin of your surrender.”
I melt.