Touching water.
The ripples flow
Over my nipples.
Your fingers trailing my skin.
Your tongue licking me,
Making my skin glow.
We moan,
Our thrusts grow
Our breathing slows.
Eyes closed
As our minds flow.

All dressed in black.
Ready for battle.
Just going
Into a meeting
With 5 men.
Or is that a reverse harem…

So many people
And still
Feeling alone.

It’s Wednesday.
Just get wet…

“Monday… Monday…,
Come here.”
….

“I said, come here.”

“Good Boy”

Damn it’s a hot Sunday.
He spit on it.
He slapped it.
…

I think I’m gonna go with wax… yes playtime with wax.
Letting it drip on his skin.
First tasting, licking.
Wax glides slow, heat to skin. Liquid fire, tracing, Burning.His body archs, his veins tight, waiting for my hands to touch.I kiss his lips, warm and teasing.Our bodies trembling for the night.

Already Friday,
Time does really fly…
But now….
What to do?
Well plan of course.
Plan those delicious, dark positions.🖤

Feral Friday
Hunger
Teeth
Heat
Skin
Pleasure
Waiting to be claimed.

Thursday

Drifting through
The Shadows
A slow ache in my chest.
I long for your touch,
Your whispers,
The heat of you pressed close to my naked skin.
Hungry.
Patient.
Waiting,
For your presence.
To command me,
To consume me.

Lying naked
On the sheets,
Legs spread
Like wings of a butterfly.
I let my hand wonder.
I let my body hum.
Quiet.
Thoughts of you brushing over me like unseen hands.

Cursed by choices.
Carved to deep.
When young
You are blind.
When old
You see too late.
No one warned.
No one to guide.
Shadows keep the truth.
And now
They whisper
What never can be undone.

Good morning butterflies!

First words of the day or not.
But still the day awaits you.
Hungry, lingering to fill you with whispers.
Burn you through and through with kisses.
On your skin and on your soul.

Morning on the patio.

Crisp morning air.
Touching my warm skin.
Coffee in my hand.
Him coming behind me,
Pulling me closer by the waist.
Giving a morning kiss
At the back of my neck.
Giving me more shivers, but with promises of warmth and pleasure to wrap around my skin.

Monday’s back.
Should we look back?
Why? Those moments will never come back.

Home
Evening
Shower whispers relief.
Water beads roll slowly over her skin.
Cool drops tracing sun, warmed skin.
Washing away sun, salt.
A ritual of care,
A ritual of touch,
A ritual of release.
Cooled, fresh.
Sleep.
Sleep is calling.
Sleep came and claimed.

Lazy Sunday
Indeed…
Time to bronze a bit
Of thighs
And let the mind breath.

Friday
Friday arriving like a slow exhale.
A promise of a night when time slows, touch lingers.
The Shadows stir,
Hunger awakens,
Weekend waits
Opening its arms
Like lovers in dark corners,
Ready to claim you and him.