Trying the pen at erotic lit again. A provocative proverb.
I come to him in my undergarments, all in white standing in front of him
I grace him with a perceived purity, his tongue on my lips is the binding spell
his hands caress my breasts, unclothing me, I am no longer the chaste woman I costume myself to be
his grip on my inner thighs is a sinner’s touch opening me up to an underworld of lust
his hand creates a path to my wet unrighteousness while I grip and tug at his manhood
his fingers know my frivolous desires, we share cries of bliss under the moonlit bed
a long goodbye kiss seals my fate, morning sun follows him back to his family home
once again, I am alone.
-HP
Garden of Shannon 