#alittlebitlostatm

I bite unknowingly on the edge of my tongue thinking how each time I complete my tender caress penetrating the warmth of her body, lust gives way to my indulgence to take her over and over again.

Her devilish grin is mesmerising as the flute on the deadliest of adder. She steeps, shifts and sways my eyes following. Her tongue sticking out as that glint in her eyes knowing I have succumb to the electrical energy she drives right through your body.

Every time differs from the last. Her erotical espionage destroys every fighting resistance I ever had. From teacher to tourist I look at her travel to worlds, transient to the skills of a chosen nymph and experienced temptress.

Words disallow me to describe the desertion of moralities inclination in uninhibited recourse to seduce her over and over again.

My tongue thirsts to run between her lips and my eyes escape to the adulterous moans. She bites on her finger savouring every stroke in melodic tune to music playing in the background.

As if I can feel her toes curls the wetter she becomes. Noone would blame or need to explain the time spent with my fingers within. Don't stop she shrieks neither taking claim to whom is getting greater satisfaction from the pleasure served.

She begs and pleads for him to serve her every need frustrated by his willingness to tease and tease again. Each time as her breath becomes deeper he knows that her trance now extends to her desire for him in return.

In life there can be no greater workout than the entanglement of two loving bodies taking turns of tantric proportions.

If only the sound of the triumphant football crowd sounded the time of my favourite team I might be more jubilant in my over all tone.

Sore eyes blaring from a sleepless night watching nothing worth mentioning but enough to keep me zoning in and out of its monotonous banter.

The winter chill at its peak one minute refreshing then chilling to the bottom of my soul awakening me to explore as this new day dawns.

Reasoning I have not nor need to explain, my travel a ticket to nowhere seems to excite as what happens next only my imagination can explain.

As the heavy steel wheels click down the tracks and a recorded voiceover announces the arrival of each approaching station, I wonder where do I get off.

Watching the the entering and exiting strangers rugged up to the hilt return passing stares like my doorway seat required address or acceptance as the continue their journey.

I can see only three doors further up in the carriage a no doubt reveler dancing in the train. Looking like last night hasn't ended. His headphones most likely muffle the fact that his singing is boisterous and overtaking the carriage. Hopefully he just doesn't care and his energy creates giggles and whispers from fellow commuters.

Here am I, going to nowhere fast, without a care in the world. Maybe it's time I jump up and dance, sing as loud as I can, no headphones needed. Continue with my blah blah yer yer in the middle of the song for the words I never remember.

My love,

I hope you still remember every morning when you would wake up and I run my fingers through your hair.

The smile on your face as I again have the chance to say good morning beautiful.

The creativity in the morning making breakfast becomes the opportunity for hysterics as a simple bit of cream on the nose becomes an all-out war drenched head to toe in all the fridges delights.

The normal look at the mess you made seems so irrelevant looking at the floor adorned with what could only be described as a version of abstract art created by the likes of Picasso or Dali made from the food fight of course.

Without any hesitation, our new puppy is left to clean up the mess of sugary delight whilst I tread gently across the new carpet, your legs tightly wrapped around my waist, arms around my neck as the most enduring statement of true love is in the kiss we indulge in each other.

Moments like this only text book of novels our beautiful partners read sitting in bay windows staring out the frosted glass wondering if true romance, seduction, and intrigue exists anywhere besides between the lines of the pages last read.

Tracing across the carpet where our sticky footprints remain in our endeavours to reach the shower, interrupted by the indulgence of lust overcoming us both as she is thrown across the bed.