And in Holy Times

I feel so full and slow and drowsy with sex. I feel soaked in blood. I feel swollen with it. Every part of my body is aching and satisied.Every ounce of me is moaning.

Once and twice. And i'm ashamed and proud. Feel dirty. Feel free. And i feel like i can do this without him. That my sexuality isn't tied between the laces of his, the drawstrings of his, the fabric of his pants.

And then in quiet i fall asleep. Dream of biting his thighs. Dream of his fast moving hands. the way his body bends with orgasm. I hear his moans and feel him in my mouth. And i want to be on my knees again. So much a woman taking him. I know the every curve of him.

And so i wake and furiously, angrily I am again. I bite his name into the sheets and my hand clenches pillows with force. This is brutal and i force it. And it's hard and it chokes me. I cum again.

And immediately my whole self is heavy with it. tired and sluggish with it. drugged with it. And i search him out. wait a little longer. wish a little harder. Refuse to cry and i think of only the feeling of biting into his thighs. his hips.

Watching him jolt with pleasurepain. Wanting to bite all the way through.