Glass Hysteria
Glass Hysteria: Sexuality Unveiled
I listen to the symphony that is my joints and bones cracking as I caress my freshly washed skin with lotion. My fingers tremble as they explore the scoured inches of me. I feel the words caught in my chest, images of you surrounding me as I lay spread eagle on the floor. I’m anxiously waiting for you. I wrap my hands around my neck and work my way back; exploring the muscles of my neck and upper back. They’re so tight and tense. My hands are well lotioned, working the scented creams into my aching flesh. A slight moan escapes my lips and I imagine that it is your hands upon me. Sounds that are inhuman escapes me as I wrap my hands, your hands, around my collarbones and down to my soft, tender breasts. They’re soft and subtle, waiting to be caressed and sucked. Nibble them gently as you rub my scarred ribs.
Taste me as you learn the secrets encased in my flesh. Press yourself into me. I need to feel your weight on me, protecting me from the world outside of you. Exchanging saliva in the hopes of a better pastime. And when the words crawl up my throat, I want you to be the one I whisper them to. Indulge my corrosive nature and impregnate me with your darkness and fascination of the sublime. Worlds explode within us as we consolidate on this dirty floor in the dim light of the night.
I see my loneliness reflected you and you see yours reflected in me. Kiss me one more time and let me sink my fingers into the softness of your hips and thighs. I need to feel you move inside me once again. As the sky closes its eyes and tears begin to pour, love me like she’ll never smile again. Crawl inside me and ravage the poet within. Your soft and shimmering cocoa coloured hair tangles with mine as I moan your name into your neck. You wrap your fingers me and grip me tight. With you, there’s no need to read between the lines. Pull out and slip your fingers into me. Bait me and tease me, love me blind.
...
Your arms wrap around me and provide me with a security blanket of sorts while I watched the stars slowly burn out. I wake up to the beautiful acoustics of summer rain and you asleep in my arms. Your soft, slightly freckled skin is in perfect match with mine, our silhouettes have moulded into one exotic expression; Your beautiful intertwine with mine and for a moment I feel whole. It feels as if the world has stopped and time breathes so slowly around us. I feel my temperature rising and the blood stirring in your veins.
I lay tracings patterns on your skin as I listen to the watch bead down the centuries old cathedrals and dream of listening to wedding bells chime. You moan slightly in your sleep, reaching out for my hand and I cease to breathe. Your hand finds mine and fits perfectly the shadows of the rain reflected in our skin. The sheets are bunched around your hips and I ache to leave a trail of kisses down your curvy side. My lips find your's and I can't help but lay a trail of kisses down your soft jawline. Your messy curls are my playground this morning, my fingers working through them.
If this is sleeping with ghosts then I don't want to wake.
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...
Your arms wrap around me and provide me with a security blanket of sorts while I watched the stars slowly burn out. I wake up to the beautiful acoustics of summer rain and you asleep in my arms. Your soft, slightly freckled skin is in perfect match with mine, our silhouettes have moulded into one exotic expression; Your beautiful intertwine with mine and for a moment I feel whole. It feels as if the world has stopped and time breathes so slowly around us. I feel my temperature rising and the blood stirring in your veins.
I lay tracings patterns on your skin as I listen to the watch bead down the centuries old cathedrals and dream of listening to wedding bells chime. You moan slightly in your sleep, reaching out for my hand and I cease to breathe. Your hand finds mine and fits perfectly the shadows of the rain reflected in our skin. The sheets are bunched around your hips and I ache to leave a trail of kisses down your curvy side. My lips find your's and I can't help but lay a trail of kisses down your soft jawline. Your messy curls are my playground this morning, my fingers working through them.
If this is sleeping with ghosts then I don't want to wake.
šLINKSš
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/anjathesickboy/?ref=aymt_homepage_panel
Twitter: https://twitter.com/darkdreamingdan
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/anjathesickboy/
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