It is in the shelter of each other that people live.
— Irish Proverb —
i need to cum…
Dear Gentle Sir,
Mornings like this, I wake full of need… and the magic that is my hands, just doesn’t quite cut it. Fuck.
Achingly Yours,
Lola Moi xo
ps: Your moans are the sexiest thing… ever.
fuck…
Dear Gentle Sir,
When you fuck me, don’t say we’re making love.
Just ride me. Let me ride you, my dark mane gone wild. Slip your need deep into the velvet caress of my throat. Mould my tits to your strong hands. Squeeze. Ply me open with your tongue. Sweat with me. Thrash your head side to side, try not to grip the pillows. Try not to get lost. Try not to want more. Try, with each groaning gasp to tell yourself this fuck is not who you are. Let all those fingers slip inside and pound my tender cum-spot. Make me ripe. This wet splashing over eyes closed, arched spines, clenched toes. A cock alive, dancing for more. Pumping. Pounding. Pulsating. All into me. Turning us each inside outside the other.
This is not love. This is more. And nothing like before.
Fuck,
Lola Moi xo
too much…
You can never have too much sky.
You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky,
and sky can keep you safe when you are sad.
Here there is too much sadness and not enough sky…
– Sandra Cisneros –
