I stressed about posting this one…words are so special to me…they need interpretation and processing…even though they are just mere words…when they come from someone else…they come with a whole lot more…the state of mind at the time of writing will be important in understanding the words…and even more so…when you read them…ur state of mind dictates your own personal interpretation. So take this one however you want…but let that be your responsibility.
You…smooth and creamy like honey… sweet…wrapped by your caramel goodness, you coat me and protect me with your delicious love. You give me everything a girl could desire…security, stability, adoration and picket fences…you worship me. But, deep down my drums beat constantly, telling tales of desires teased, like a flames flicker…of music that reaches deep thru to her soul, reverberating thru muscles, sinewy tissue and bones….like the haunting beats of a congo drum made with the hyde of a very wild boar. Flames burn and threatenening to crystalise my bones as my tissues contract, wound up in pain,where the tensions of these congo drums beat once again in disdain. Muscles are wind tight, pains sharp and precise as dissapointment once against takes its stabs at me…familiar wounds to very familiar congo tunes.
As with another dissappointment of our failed spiri-physical connection, the blood from the stabs wounds…manifest like tears from my eyes….and I curl up and close my eyes tight…to be locked into my darkness on the inside…where she stands waiting for me…on the opposite and balancing side. Hands behind her back…apprehensive…but with wild eyes like hungry lions waiting to eat me up. I recognise that look in her eyes and feel my own pace quicken as I am captured…like my congo drummers, she plays me and I have no choice but to….mmhhhmMmmm…watching her lips twitch as if anxious, while she calculates the seconds till she collects the concessionary prize, which for her…is everything she’s been waiting for. Unconsciously I suck a deep breath as my oxygen was running out…being alone and so close to this fire…. Was threatening to burn me out…and then she lunges for me and my knees go weak her lips finding what they seek as she explores my mouth with her tongue…that breath…I let it out now…but sounding like a moan, a she goes even deeper wrapping her hands up in my hair and pulling me even closer into her. Without knowing, I surrendered and my pussy was wet and aching. Rushed thoughts of her fucking me galloped ahead…leaving my pussy now aching and waiting to be fed…with her fingers, her, tongue…the strap that she has on….but she’s slow and steady…leading me to a candle-lit fantasy…aromas fill the air vanilla and cinnamon …music awakening my inner Sheeba, rose petals…weed…wine…
cheesecake. Bubble Bath…massage…u make love to me in my fantasy…like I’ve always wanted it. I am afraid.
P.S. Thanks Phyllea for reading this for me at Sundaze Live…you gave it wind, I enjoyed it…just like I did when I felt it.
am now about to press the ‘Publish’ button