Tired. Tired. I’m so tired. I’m so tired I can’t think. I can’t think what food to eat, which clothes to wear, the way I should tie or place or set my hair. I’m so tired the banality of my day, the must-dos flooding my brain, leave me exhausted, in a whir.
And yet, I know if you were here, if I was there, if our bodies were together enveloped in this darkness, if our bodies were together cosseted away from the cold, hard, howling wind, if our bodies were together pressed in close, pressed in tight, if we were together you would revive me, you would bring me back to the light, the touch of your skin breathing in new life, your deep, sensual kiss calling to the passion never far from this fair surface, your hands travelling up the length of my naked back, your hand nestling intimately between these vulnerable blades, your hand, your fingers weaving through the curls at my nape, your lips whispering my name, moaning your desire, your thick hard cock filling me, feeding me, fucking me, wanting me, loving me, showing me the way.