Explicit Content

I've dreamt of the scent of your skin and the taste of your tongue for too many nights.

I have a vision of you.

I see you in full color, in the hours before dawn.

I want what I cannot have.

I want what I deny myself.

I murmer your name.

I reach for you.

I fall into your arms.

I feel your breath on my neck.

I invade your mouth with my tongue, seeking yours.

I feel your teeth breaking my skin.

I tremble as electricity pours through my veins.

I imagine your body heat searing into my exposed skin.

I want you to bruise me with your mouth and your fingertips.

I trail my fingertips down the bumps of your spine.

I run the palm of my hand across your shoulders.

I interlace your fingers with mine.

I plead.

I murmer your name, each syllable exotic to my ears.

I caress every inch of your skin.

I move my mouth to you.

I taste you there.

I breathe faster.

I see you above me.

I catch myself whimpering.

I open my eyes expecting to see you above me.

I lick my lips, expecting to taste a trace of your saltiness there.

I extract myself from the sheets.

When does it become no longer you and I, but we and us?