Member-only story
For the moon to eclipse the sun, transient is the flame of desire, a fire that burns intensely, forms a halo around your heart: the heart be the mind that sees and desires.
Your legs a necklace around my neck: languid your torso flows immersed in the deep still waters. The overripe fruits hangs from the vine. Mine is the divine rite.
My cheeks buried within yours:
tasting the nectar oozing from your sweet raw flesh — exposed to the light: it is as appetising as dark molasses.
My face basking in the manliness of you, I smell you on my finger tips. Scent: Summer showers falling on hot sun baked tarmac.
I hunger to taste you like no other: your soft thighs to caress with my lips. For me, to drink and savour the milky sap SPLASHED on your warm velvet skin: the emotion gushing forth from inside — to cultivate — to prize open shells. There is something so intoxicating about the scent of your cum, Punched Drunk — in it, I find comfort and warmth. I want to hear the release.
After the rush, to listen to your breathing accelerate and then dissipate : like the ocean spray: waves oscillating in the night — under starry skies — bejewelled my eyes — looking down unto you — the isle lost in a vast ocean of dreams.
