I haven't been touched in a month. A forgotten coffee mug at the back of the cupboard; watching as all the others get used.
I crave the warmth of another body. A single fingertip like a feather along my spine. A hot breath rolls over my skin.
I need the eye contact. The existence of another soul so closely to my own; the proximity causing our heartbeats to synchronize as a steady soft beat drum.
I miss the intimacy that comes with a connection. A true fit to your heart that is rare to find; a kindred being existing right next to you.
I want the raw passion. Like a Bitch in heat I crave you inside me. To be so full of another person that you don't know where they end and you begin.
I imagine your big hand around my throat. My life in your hands I get wet. The anticipation of pleasure and pain are almost too much for me to take.. will I break?
I haven't been touched in a month.