In english please...

Waist

Cascades of emotions furrow the contour of your figure;

throbbing all the way to my back

splitting the channel of lust.

Iron and leather chest scented with vanilla…

Effervescence and defiance.

Kisses well given

 punishment and reward…

Red point.

Beginning of the long-awaited death.

furtive sex with you and with so many others…

Picture taken from Pinterest: “Kink Hug” by Samarel

In english please...

Gustatory…

Your warm tongue caressing the folds of my groin,

while your eyes sway on the pleasure of your taste buds.

The alkaline taste mixed with the copper you were talking about…

Your saliva feels powerfully wet,

crackling in the silence corrupted by your infectious moan.

mmm…!

The smell of your breath after those kisses that we provide consciously…

The tireless and manifest desire for your flesh hurting my feverish pride…

But not anymore!

I rebuked my asshole pride; understanding everything;

there is nothing wrong with this.

There is nothing wrong with us.

Nothing to regret…

Love you, period.

I love you in verse and in reverse of this prose smelling of sex.

And steam caught up in these hours in constant pelvic movement…

I like you with your furious mane,

with the uncovered smile,

with the organic of that you and I, so you and I…

So much and so little sometimes…

I love you, I love you…

Period.