The air was both stagnant and saccharine when you ...

The air was both stagnant and saccharine when you sunk fingers into my flesh, threatening to fuck me in broad daylight with the clouds and the ants and the delicate blades of grass all staring with their impressionable little eyeballs. It’s no secret that my skin is pale and pockmarked but I want to take the time to thank you for biting into me; for sinking your teeth so damn deep that I couldn’t help but soften and melt away like fresh fruit that’s been left for too long in the sun.

You’re beyond brilliant and I’m nothing less than fixated. Not a night goes by that I don’t lay in bed alone and mimic the lines that you once traced along my breasts, my hips, my thighs. I think about all of the times that you’ve licked my legs, and how it feels to have your unshaven face brush across my neck; stubble persistent and satisfyingly rough like cats tongues. I thought that lust was something primal and empowering, but instead it’s seen me stripped and reduced to this. I’m begging. Please, please, please press into me again with those tortoise-shell hands; so broad and strong and oddly patterned. Leave me breathless, laced with sweat, and so damn dizzy that I wonder if I even exist at all. My entity aches and I need to escape into ecstasy. I’m afraid that “desperation” isn’t a strong enough word.

Submitted by lightglobes.