BDSM night
The bruises will slowly start to fade, the welts will last for a time, but at least I have them as sweet reminders of sexual moments that you made mine
Bite marks, long deep claw marks carved into my skin, I can feel them through my clothing reminders of our night of kinky sin
Wearing long sleeves to hide the rope marks where you bound me up last night, burning red with anger where you did them up so tight
Sitting gently on the edge because my bum is red and sore, flogging marks and bruises still stinging from the night before
I creep off to the bathroom so I can look at the bite marks on my thighs, I can't help having flashbacks it makes release some contented sighs
I start thinking of the names you called me they ranged from your Angel to a Whore, I loved it when you got rougher, it just made me want you more
But sitting here at work desk today all my spoils of war are well hid out of sight, no one would ever have a clue about our BDSM night
THE KINKY POET