The pulsation of my body, the flow of my words.
Together again they overtake me, they wake me in the dead of night, gnawing, grabbing, demanding. Begging for the page, the pen, the cursor, the screen. Begging for skin and heat and lips and hands and hardness.
Open and ready, I surrender.
Together again they overtake me, they wake me in the dead of night, gnawing, grabbing, demanding. Begging for the page, the pen, the cursor, the screen. Begging for skin and heat and lips and hands and hardness.
Open and ready, I surrender.
4 comments:
open, ready, surrendering,
3 of my favorite things...
What a coincidence, Sage. They're three of mine also...
I watched mesmerized as you grasp your pen and lower it to the soft and willing paper. Your movements are slow and gentle, then pulsing and penetrating.
Take me with your words, ravish me!
Your wish is my command, Marcus. My pen is poised and ready...
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