The Red Shoe Diaries

A fluttering, like the shuffling of spilt papers echoed in my chest.

I pull and tap at my lip, my eyes raised and angled to a corner that's not actually there...

Thinking

Imagining

Concocting 

How do you capture a beating heart?

So many variables, so out of my control....but to have you listen to me from the inside out, made me take pause in a spontaneous pleasure, you'll never quite know.

I run up the stairs,

My palms askew on my temples, scanning the top floor for sound, alone, but the quietness, a shame.

I step into my clinical bathroom, it's only link to the outside world a round skylight reflected in the round mirror.....it's pure perfect light and I shed my skin...it glistens in a visible shimmer, from the anticipation between our wants and needs, we are miles away , but it closes in, til I can almost feel your shadow, overlapping my slut self.

As I place the microphone to my metronome, I'm panting, from my neck pulse, as I imagine what you might hear and petrified at what you will find.....aroused like a feral cat, sneaky like a whore rat.

And I think of hands, squeezing, kneading

Of Fingers stroking

Warm wetness flowing

Sweat beading

My pussy needing....

My eyes widening

Mind melting.

Squeeze, Knead .....stroke, flow......sweat, need.......wide, melt

Ba Boom.....Ba Boom.....BaBoom.....BaBoom

Pop!

I rip the microphone from my chest

Clear

And quiver in the mirror, imagining you all over me.
Ba Boom.