She burns with desire...

The sound of a pig tip-tapping 💕

I’m sitting across from you. We’re talking. I’m looking in your eyes. Sometimes I look at your mouth. I wonder if you know what I think about when I look at your mouth.

Thinking about kissing you. Thinking about how it feels to have your mouth on me. Thinking about how sometimes you suck my fingers while I’m inside you.

You’re so sexy. You always turn me on. Just the littlest things you do get me so hot.

While you talk, I reach over and touch your hand. You smile at me. I squeeze it a little and you look down and see my hand on you. You look back and smile. It’s a cheeky smile. Now it’s my turn to wonder what you’re thinking about.

Are thinking about how I put my hands on your arms and pin you down? Are you thinking about my hands on your throat or in your hair? Are you thinking about how I touch your face or lips in tender moments. Or how my hands run up and down your body while I’m eating you? I know you love my hands. You could be thinking of any of those things. Maybe all of them.

We are supposed to be sitting here having lunch but neither of us are here in our minds. We are both waiting to finish the meal and get back to somewhere private.

I know the same way I knew I needed to be a mother long before I carried a child within me and rocked her to sleep and helped her with homework. I know because living this life feels like coming home. It feels like chipping away centuries of dirt and calcification to uncover something true and beautiful—something pure.

Brushing a pig