jsmky

Wish I know you. Better. Don't remember. When. We met. Did it rain? In spite of. Later. Perhaps. Spring sprouts. Why. Stay still. Your touch moves me. My lips hurt. Faces. Mysterious. What about kindness. I am. Because. I failed to tickle dust.

Closeness. Farther away. Dance rinses my soul. Careless. You grind body speaks. Forbidden. Regrets. I am stronger now. Weaker since. Night slept sober. My drunkenness. J?rmeister. Your spell hurts. Strangers sex. You invite troubles. Thrive on attention. To live. Reinvent lies. Streets still young. Void. Night intoxicated. Suffocate her face. My addiction. No longer myself. Why can't i pull away? You. She. Her eyes feed. Me.

The bougainvillea curtain conceals a secret door. Once opened behind it, the maestra awaits by the stairs. She smiles with a beautiful face adorned with a golden emblem. The victorian air of an egyptian queen. This room of many mirrors exuberates some kind of warmth that feeds an indescribable feeling of ruthlessness. You can almost visualize shadows breathing besides a steel cage rested by the saltire cross. Waiting to pounce. Kneel down. Stand up. Crawl over there. Her orders i obey. Shirts unbuttoned. She discovers my bones. Not much flesh there i muttered slowly. Her laughters distribute silence across the empty chamber of my body. Why am i here? Becoming vulnerable. "Your skin is smooth." "You're so light I can lift you up like this." I suffocate in the prison of her musk. Raw. A prey in the amazon. Repulsed by the breaths of her closeness. Drowning under its rawness. I want to run away. Unable to break free from the cross. She sinks her teeth deeper into my ear. The language of her fingers scribbles a pattern of shudders. Lust. Ignited. Repeat after me. I like it when you touch me like this. She carves a gigantic fork across my skin. An object with fine metallic tips. A bundle of fresh meat sits restless on her picnic table. To be ravaged, consumed, finally discarded. My fate. The sharpness of her claws. I struggle to discount my fear of bleeding. Doesn't she look like a shedevil with that dangerous thing? Her timing of humor is impeccable. She undresses. A real woman. The softness of her breasts illuminates a pale moon that glows so exquisitely i'm afraid that i would upset this pendulum of perfection by touching them. Her mouth devours my spirit. Her motion relentless. The mirror has insatiable thirst. I love it when you touch me like this.

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