Secret Thots for a Very Private Gentleman
tales, temptation, and titillation…
Let us again pretend that life is a solid substance, shaped like a globe, which we turn about in our fingers. Let us pretend that we can make out a plain and logical story, so that when one matter is dispatched – love for instance – we go on, in an orderly manner, to the next.
— Virginia Woolf —
And he loves her. He loves her like he can never grab enough of her between his fingers. And no matter how close he gets,
even when they make love, it never feels close enough.
— Iain S. Thomas —
Had she her way,
she would lick the lengths of love with ardent suck.
She would lie, silken breasts spilling to the side
reaching back
and pull him down on her
Hard.
Arching, lifting her ass so he could spread her fuck-hungry folds with heated, throbbing shaft.
She would let him pound her.
Each cry a soft, urgent
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
This she would do (and more), only if she had her way.
– Lola Moi –
