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Click hereA trickle at first, dripping, dropping
slowly filling up
that urge, that need
sweat beads build and trickle and drip down
backs, thighs
I feel the pools in your hands, your lips
they are deep, they are dark,
they are full of that sticky, seeping
fluid
It starts small, and then becomes a
cascade
falling down into you with abandon
steady, yet you can't quite harness it
falling and falling, and pummeling and pummeling
'til I float
I relax
I drift