Angel slut.
She is the syrup of the maple tree.. Sweet and dark.
The Angel in the hammock of an owls wing.
Lazing languidly, innocently trailing a bare ankle , poison ivy to a passer by.
An enticing blend of fragile vulnerability and after dark temptress,
Wild and uncaring, an echo of women centuries past.
Fecund and unashamed in their quest for pleasure.
A fire that burns in its intensity .
Red hot fingers grasping everything in their wake,
Greedy in pursuit for pleasure.
Like a hunter she pounces, the victim is more than willing.
Lost in the pale blue gaze that is unwavering, challenging.
Beautiful and brutal , helpless as the fly in the spiders web.
Naked in the moonlight, pale skin washed in silver,
Hungry anticipation , casual flick of the hand to her moist entrance,
The other beckoning, urgent now.
He surrenders , there is no choice ,
This primal lust consuming and frenzied.
This woman a powerful enchantress, her passion dark and wild.
The coupling is fierce, her hips thrust heavenward.
Impaled and for a moment, frail and small .
Eyes wide and innocent, no trace of the lioness within.
For now she is sated.