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 —
you’re free.
You were once inside me.
You know the folds that define me.
You have tasted the flavour of love blossom and linger on me.
Our desire oozed and flowed from me, insatiable.
You have sucked me into such moans that
even upon recollection your cock springs into action.
You binged on me – sweating out my light, drowning in the deep dark.
My trust, a gift.
Our joy was a door caught in the wind’s wild rhythm.
Banging.
Banging.
Banging.