This bed is on fire with passion and love,
the neighbours complain about the noises above,
but she only comes when she’s on top…
Ahh, you think you’re so pretty…
Dressed me up in women’s clothes,
messed around with gender roles,
dyed my eyes and called me pretty…
You’re driving me crazy, when are you coming home?
… Continue ReadingYou lick your lips after I have spent time kissing you, every time. I watch your tongue run along them, the tip touching your teeth, you press your lips together gently and lick at them. Are you trying to taste more of me? Is your tongue feeling around for damage, bruising, soreness?
I ask you, finally, why you do that.
You smile shyly at me and touch your mouth, “After you kiss me, my lips … Continue Reading
You are battered and pathetic and wanting.
And crying, always the crying.
And I make you beg me to fuck you and I say ‘no’, and it makes you scared because you think it means this is over and you beg me to take pieces of you and you beg me to kiss you and you beg me to anchor you to the ground with my body and you beg for something, anything. And I … Continue Reading
imy b… Continue Reading
They had been out at his work function, she in her normal jeans and long sleeved t-shirt, some little make up for the occasion and a glossy-lipped mouth. Killer heels her indulgence, making her the 6’3 blonde. She had watched him with his colleagues, nodding pleasant hellos, exchanging glances with him, keeping track of his whereabouts when she left his side, chatting absently with strangers. Afterwards, they held hands, ran through the rain (like every … Continue Reading
He was endorphined, wrists cuffed and tied to the bed, his eyes open, but not focussed, though they were directed at her. She touched the places that she had hurt, played with them gently, they were hugely tender and each touch brought forth a moan, his body jerking away from her even though she knew he wanted more.
She looked into his unseeing eyes and delivered a slap to his cheek. His face flew to … Continue Reading
He is still tied down, glazed, high and head-spun… I bring the glass to his lips and tip the water into his mouth, his throat undulating as he swallows.
“Do you want some more?” I whisper.
He looks up at me, all trust and soul and broken beauty.
He nods. “Yes Ma’am.”
I take a sip and lean down to him, touch my lips to his. He reaches up to kiss me, I open my … Continue Reading