I want to tiptoe

inside of you

in the corner shop

of crimson visions,

feel my soft fingers

squeeze your pages,

touching silky words

with erotic imagination

of lust, feeling your spine.

Taste longing words

with wild imagination,

strip your wanton covers

leaving you bare

spread open your center.

Trace your breath

along your phrases,

digest your juices,

take my virginity.

Make you feel

used and abused.

Take you out

of closeted bookshelf

of bare and exposed

leather skinned essence.

Won’t leave you forlorn

alone in the dust.

Open you up wide,

expose your inner core

to sensual possibilities.

A crisp shirt and tie juxtapose his tanned neck and bulging arms. He's rock hard. Rugged. All man. A lilac breeze intoxicates my arousal as I watch him sip coffee, unaware.

Alone at my table on the cafe's patio, I slip fingers between my legs and stroke. Delicious, conspicuous stimulation. I lean back in my seat, touch myself again, and clear my throat. When he looks my way, his crooked smile fuses me to my chair. Fuck. I want him again, so I wink.

He grabs his phone and types.

Him: You came.

Me: Not yet, babe. ;) Keep watching.

I pass the hallway and take off my coat,

look around and see him laying on the sofa,

still in his work clothes...I smile softly and decide to play my little game...

already slipping out of my baby blues...I tiptoe quietly across the room,

gently sitting on him, while he's still asleep...I start to move slowly against him as he opens his eyes, very, very surprised...I lean forward and kiss him with intensity...my long hair cascading down and tickling his face...he doesn't have to be asked twice...his hands already sliding against my bare thighs and wanting more...so, so much more.

They glide across the living room floor, as if it's a ballroom. The rhythm of their waltz matches that of the Sinatra song playing on the record player. 'Love is Here to Stay' brings them back to their wedding day back in 1968, just a year after they could officially be wed.

Since then, their bodies have grown old, but their eyes still have the same vibrancy they did fifty years ago.

They share a smile before closing the little distance they have between them.

As they dance, the family they made together watches them with smiles on their faces.

They walked hand in hand on the beach. Arriving at their favorite spot, they stopped to sit and watch the setting sun. Liam rested his head against Robbie’s shoulder. “Happy Anniversary, babe.”

“Six months. I can’t believe it. It feels like I’ve loved you my whole life.” Robbie smiled.

Under the reddish-gold glow of the setting sun, Liam turned to Robbie and kissed him. “I love you, too, babe.” He pushed Robbie down onto the sand, deepening the kiss.

“Should we move this elsewhere?” Robbie said with a shy smile.

Liam ripped Robbie’s shirt open. “No. Here is perfect.”

Loving her wasn’t something I planned on. How is it that one day you’re going through the usual motions and the minute she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and smiles at you, your whole world bursts into bright, vibrant color as if you’ve spent your life walking through one of those black and white, silent films? It’s funny how it took something so simple to make me finally see the feelings I was blind to for so long, or maybe I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I was in love with my best friend.

It was late at night when we met: tall, dark and handsome; and me—a girl with a sweet tooth for mysterious strangers. Gesturing with a hand, he invited me over to the bench he was sitting on. “Hey sweetheart.” He said, his voice smooth and rich like chocolate.

”Hello to you too.” I purr, placing myself on his lap. Alluring him with my charm, I gently lick his neck. “You smell so sweet.”

”Do I?” He murmured, tilting his head away from me, leaving his neck exposed. Leaning closer, my fangs lengthen—puncturing his skin—letting the sweet-smelling blood flow freely...So delicious...

He remembers when the idea first formed. It was as delicate as one of the millions of snowflakes that lay at his feet in this foreign land. Melting in the owner’s grasp.

She sat. Her legs crossed on the edge of the bed. Running the inside of her hand on the comforter underneath, feeling the smoothness. Wondering if his skin also felt this soft.

Curved as much as it could be, the keycard stroked the inner walls of the door’s most delicate part, bringing ecstasy to the mechanical workings inside.

The lock popped. The moans were loud. Everything was remembered.

The climax never comes, these days.

My mind wanders as my fingers start

Slowly, gently, exploring every wrinkle,

Every crevass and nook, over and under,

I'm a pro though I know you are home

Kissing her in ways you never kissed me.

Leave her, you cheater, I beg,

My fingers picking up speed,

Thoughts racing of you coming over,

Leaving her and your Visa alone,

Kissing my neck, holding me close,

Telling me you'll be here forever,

Then leaving again, going back to her.

Acrylic nails tear soft pubic flesh,

Pleasure and wetness oozing out.

I wish it never happened.

His jaw taut. Muscles straining, sinewy against his skin. Eyes narrowed. Fists clenched. His whole body tensed. His whole body angry.

But I can't help but love it. When he's angry I am at his mercy. When he is angry he is aware as not to hurt me, but rough and.....and savagely animalistic.

His mouth moves and I cannot hear what he says as I am too busy thinking about what other things that mouth could do.

He is troubled and sad. Always messing up. (He thinks)

I walk up to him.

I touch him.

He softens.

He always does.