Wind whistles,
Trees rustle.
Our combined breaths,
Increasing,
Mingling.
Our passions rising
Our movements
Quickening.
Moans become
Louder, Longer.
The climax nears.
Nail scratch against
His back
Lips lock on my neck.
One breath coming in a long drawn out moan
The other softer, more intense.
- Author: PrincessCDE ( Offline)
- Published: January 2nd, 2016 10:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
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