Describe this hunger.
Use sharp words, words filled with edges. Words with heat, words that sear when laid out against your thoughts.
Words that are not nearly enough.
This hunger demands more; this hunger is not attraction. It is not desire. It is not physical lust.
It feeds on them. It uses them to find purchase inside you. It is stronger then physical need or mental addiction. It goes beyond craving. It moves unceasingly under your skin, feral and raw. It overrides all other social imperatives. The cold mask it wears hides the pulsating need underneath.
This hunger doesn't react – it is. It is your hand finding her neck as you push her roughly to the ground. It is the sound of the front door closing and clothes shoved aside for a hard fuck against the wall.
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D'jaevle, Aphrodisiac
Finally. Something to which I can relate.
elise
I feel like this was written for me.
You write beautifully. Thank You.
I’ve felt this hunger; it pushed me in the blankets while fucking me hard, then it slapped my face till i saw little stars, it dragged me to the shower and peed on me.
Tnx for again such a beautiful post.
Sweet greetz, moonheart