Superclark
Today, longing came not as a sweet memory, but as raw desire. I closed my eyes, and your body lay before me, warm, surrendered, begging for what my soul and body silently hold. Your lips on mine, hungry, took the air from my chest, while your hands roamed my skin like fire. With each touch, a shiver, with each kiss, a dizzying rush. I felt your rapid breathing, your body pressed against mine, as if time did not exist. In my fantasy, I explored every curve of yours, unhurriedly, listening to your moans that mingled with my pleasure. Your body trembled, and I plunged deeper, overcome by hunger for you, by the passion that never died. Longing is my prison and my addiction: I don't just want to remember you, I want to live you again, to lose myself in your arms until pleasure is our only language.
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