She had a sweet tinkling voice
The more he heard it , the more he wanted to strangle her with the simple touch of his fingers
He saw the scars from her backless dress
The more he saw , the more he imagined the arch they would make on the soft stokes of his fingers like a calliope.
Her lips tasted of honey and ciggar clogged up togather
The more he kissed he wanted to know the taste of her raw dry skin and lick the honey glaze down below
Her eyes were vicious gaze
The more he looked the more he wanted then to shed tears of pleasure will each scream of his whips
The more she smiled he saw the white griding teeths biting the red gloss on her tongue was searching for a wine she never tasted
The more he saw her doggerel hip gliding inside the streched of her creased dress
He knew the shape enough to slam it by his bedroom walls and spank it with little licks and a few strokes within the heavenly line leading to a world he didn't know.
The more he saw her swinging breast falling on her hands when she sat with a crossed leg the more he wanted to wet his dream with the all milk of his darkest fantasies sleeping on them binding them with the lashes he kept in his secret rooms
The more he watched her waiste rolls hanging in the subtle seductive way calling him out like a thief in the middle of the night the more he wanted to undress her skin and bury himself and cuff her fantasies in his leash and fuck her like he never did
The more he saw her in that warm reddish dress
The more he wanted to see her climb on him naked.
- i opened the lashes
YOU ARE READING
Burning water
Şiira set of poetry oozing out of my hands. stories that feel like moon to your stars and dream that burn your skin like the sun. Can water burn you? Yes when its splashing comd yet boiling hot when you can see death kissing your life. some minimal dra...
