4 years ago. July 3, 2020 at 8:10 PM
My finger traces her spine
from the nape of her neck
down to the small of her back.
Cool at first, and moist to the touch.
She flinches slightly in anticipation
of a perceived act that doesn't come.
I refrain.
This phantom act builds and blossoms,
her imagination takes hold.
Playing out in her mind at a feverish pace.
Muscles contract, heart beat races, lips quiver.
Her body writhes and melts in upon itself.
A sea of molten flesh,
that burns to the touch.
A ripe fruit
splayed and offered up for consumption.
The sub is not herself anymore,
And with a quick thrust I make her mine.
@wicked.writer