I feel wanted. Desired. Craved.

I’m not biting my lip.
That would be more of an outward expression of my nervousness. And I’m not nervous. I’m… ready.
So my lips are full. And parted.

My eyes… wide. And focused. And intense. Intensely green. My color of want. Of need. Of desire.

I offer myself to you. The physical and the emotional. I trust you to know when to stop. And when to push further. There is an electricity pulsing through me. An energy that is focused completely on you. And on pleasing you. On satiating you.

Sate… I equate that with completely satisfied. Full to point of wanting no more.
I ache to sate you.

The thought of you devouring me while at the same time spilling into me… it whips me into a frenzy. I want to push back… to give your aggression a firm foundation on which to release. But that’s it. Not aggressing back, just… being.

I want to be your vessel.

I want to be a thing, yes thing, you require.

I want to be your madness.

I want to be your sanity.

I want to be…

I want you be your everything. I want to be the hilt in which you thrust your soul. In the embodiment of your cock.

Use me to fulfill your most base desires. I trust them. I trust you.

I bare to you the throat you lust after.
I bare to you my body for you to claim, if you’ll have it.
I bare to you the pieces of my heart. Those that are still whole and the shattered fragments too.


24 thoughts on “Interlude

  1. I feel like you’ve had the breath of life given to you. You sound/feel different in these posts. It’s a very good thing, I think. Very sexy… very relatable.

    Smooches and Hugs.

  2. I wrote (is it fair to say that when you actually dreamed it?) a song once (exactly once) where I wrote about a girl staring at raindrops as a metaphor for her broken heart, “she sees it’s shattered pieces lying on the ground.” How incredibly poetic to think of them now as a gift to be offered!

Talk to me. Please.

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