1. I touch your inner thighs, slowly. As lace, lust and leather invigorate my senses, my fingertips travel up north. With subtle strokes and sly words, all whispered into the ear towards the soul.
2. My fingers slip in and out of your wetness.
3. My lips waiting, wanting to taste the sweet tang and smudge of your moans.
4. As I, with eyes closed, indulged in every tantric ache, slowly dip my passion into your desire’s ink.
5. My pen shall dip once, soaking in your damp glory, then dip again firmly, until it is satisfied and full for the night.
6. Ink, to write our misadventure:
7. The deliberate unison of two strangers out for orgasm and neon connections that shine. If not only through our skin, but so within the beaming smile absent from our lips, but blatant in the deepest corner of our lies.
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