no one's with us, it's an empty carriage.
we're misbehaving only craving more, engraving each others finger prints into body parts to give chills to the core.
a slap in the face and hands round my throat, a whisper of imaginary thoughts and it's off with the coat, pressed against you as i breathe out your name, love turns to lust as it surges through my veins.
i'm begging you now and my hands are twisted in your hair, i can't hold off any longer but you're making me plead, it's a show for you and you're filled with greed. you're making me hold off, my hips are bucking and i'm a shaking, moaning mess, my hands tied up with silk we call it a warrant for my arrest.
do this in real life, get me to beg - it might just be worth it to keep me on the edge.
YOU ARE READING
666XXX
Poésiea series of the 666 diaries, this is number 3. started in april 2016, ended jan 2017.
