Homoeroticism is such a beauty, beauty that defines elegance and love and individuality.
he was rimming around silently, round my dignified orifice. his hands, with violent solace, their bones were plundering me. I could hear my palpitations burning across my chest, this man he could probably hear them too. the battered muscles of my insides were being churned, cradled, curved, nurtured and tortured and pounded upon, his excellent fingers dancing around that capital erect attire of my manhood. under the quiet cold of his fingerprints - my skin, my existing courage quivered, silently my breathe singing out a moan. pleasure, it mimicked and outshone my pain as his extravagant existence pressed against the wall of my wail of bliss. his blue eyes swam in mine, his shadow curved over me, grey painted walls tattooed nothing but the sketched silhouette of us, my back arching against his well carved belly. the oaky blankets smelled of us, tainted in our gorgeous sin. drowned in our muffled songs of moans, hushed breathes and smiles and names the room blushed under the moonlight trickling down the window pane, the tint red with love and lust. his love overflowing my blatant void, completing me, exercising anarchy as prisoners of making love to each other. my heels, buring themselves pink and scorched in the hem of the destroyed linen under us, the screeching old mahogany of the bed must have cried in agony but us. our breathes were hurrying, running to escape us, to escape our pleasures wrapped around each other. his dexterous hands doing wonders, choking and brushing and drawing masterpieces on me - his canvas , carrying me to the mountain peak, my mind blindly following and shivering in grace, in the profanity of solace and peace. he laced our fingers as we ran over the last threads, wildly against the thorny snow welcoming us to the peak, burning us, pushing us closer and leaving us desparate to blanket the two hemispheres together, the warmth, the sweat cradling our toes, belly and thighs wet. and fell onto each other, the pale mist cascaded across our bodies as the vile of love potion threatening to spill all this time had finally blindfolded us and embraced us in each other's arms. I was fragile, he was careful while holding me, careful to break me not. my languid curves falling into his arms while they cloaked me and kept me warm against his chest.













