She walked into the nightclub and stood with the sheep, but she wasn’t part of the flock. She didn’t clutch a drink and danced with a self-conscious sway. No, her eyes held a predatory gleam as her hips moved in a way that hypnotized and seduced. She was a wolf amongst sheep.
My partner, my lover
He gets under my skin
And lights me from within
He is my sun
And his touch is for more than just fun
It has been that way since I turned twenty-one
And we shall burn bright until way past eighty-one.
He begins his journey over wanton flesh
Exploring between her lush valleys
Diving into her warm waters
Letting the waves of her euphoria wash over him
Pulling him in deeper, drowning him in their mutual pleasure
Grandpa looked about a hundred and three with a face like old, discarded leather and a wiry white beard. But his voice was strong and his eyes wise and we loved when he told stories of Great Depression. Back when he and grandma’s pockets were empty, but their hearts overflowed with love and hope.
Their meetings are clandestine but as inevitable as the waves crashing to the shore during a wild storm.
They are a hurricane of lust, longing, and lechery, one that’s willing to destroy anyone and anything on their path to satisfaction.
You are sometimes a dream, sometimes a nightmare
A reflection of perfection but also a master of disaster
What always remains, is that you are mine
And that is divine
His mouth met hers, soft yet firm, his tongue glides along her bottom lip.
The erotic dance begins.
The pounding of their hearts is the beat
The racing of their pulse the melody.
She could dance with her man until the earth turns to dust and sun fades, and never grow bored.
He smiles, believing he’s going to score. But this boy playing at being a man doesn’t understand; he and I, we aren’t even playing the same game
The preacher had a tall, wiry frame. One that made it seem like he could reach up and grasp heaven, balancing it in his palms. However, what he did with those hands, well that belong in hell…