Callu
Her touch is cold, her sound but a whisper, like cold breath giving chills to my body. I can feel her energy, but the cold wind wisps it away, like that of the tip of my tongue, waiting to breed intimacy.
But when I dream she speaks, and says I am the one cold, I am the one distant. Oh, the agony of this loneliness attacks my mind. The touch and desire of the woman is on fire.
The awakening has brought warmth, her tone has brought peace, her desire quenched my soul. Her hand down my chest, her grasp on my thigh, I can only resolve in love.
No longer cold, no longer distant, her lips burn against mine, her tongue slides within me, wet and relentless, filling me, tasting me, consuming every shadow of loneliness.
The lingering space once empty and dry is now alive with her fire. The desire of this woman is love undenied, a flame that devours, a hunger that will never let go, my true ride or die. ..
