The days. The months. The years.
The lure. The intimacy. The torment.
The glimpse of this beguiling curiosity.
The moments burned deep into your flesh. The echo of that voice. The taste of the words. The mouth aching to savour the softness of that skin. The fire, that kiss. The intensity your body and soul refuse to forget. The racing heartbeat as your caress worships each line, curve and hollow. The glistening sin that flows and screams between your legs not merely from craving but also from need. The whimpers and moans as you fuck and make love and come shivering together until you fear for nothing, until you pray for sweet annihilation. The one who rushes back, who possesses your desire as the velvet darkness sets in, as the innocence of day shines bright.
The man and his inexplicable singularity. The ideal given life.
© Cheeky Minx