Darling,
I wanted to write. Tell you of the day. You’ve been on my mind most of it.
Two bodies, coiled.
How is it two can have perfection? Doesn’t seem fair – are we stealing desired rarities from the rest? I left my charger at yours, it’s by your bed should you see it.
Oh but last night, my eyes shut as I write this – as if my body holds the memory of your touch. Sensual. Your fingers imprinted on my skin. Just one look from you and my skin is butter melting in a pan. The Pinot Noir still in my throat. Deep and red. Dinner, flavours of the Orient.
Fucking over all surfaces, lust transcending us beyond the precipice of desire. Taking control of my body, contorting and shape shifting so that I could fit wherever you needed me. Being lost in your power, no – playing the role of being lost in your power. The sighs and moans, whispering as my tongue drifted over your ear. Scratching my nails down your back. Hearing you and the thrill, the divine satisfaction, of watching you reach that high. In such a moment, second, all was mine. Feeling you inside, leaking into my body. Lying afterwards, as close as two people could be. You stroked me everywhere, the soft damp curls – going in and marking my chest with your wet fingers. Smiling to yourself, mischievous light.
And as I left, the streaks you painted still armouring my body, protected me. Watching as the streets began to take shape. Accepted time of the unruly and dishonourable. Final sips and last order bells ringing into night. There was a car, as you promised, waiting. Y2XC 4AU, plate matched the screen. Turning around to the door of your place, night sealed with a blowing kiss. Your window was empty, perhaps you feel asleep? Lying in our canvas, stained.
The car started, drove on…
