I whispered your name again last night.
Screaming it inside my head, as I felt your hands intently caressing my flesh so willingly given to you.
Cold chills burning into me with every touch… an insurmountable weakness...
all for you.
I am consumed by haunting desire, to feel your skin beneath mine, your mouth possessing me, your soul enticing me to let go.
Tonight, once again I will scream your name as I succumb to your passion, unable to resist your hot skin pleading for my touch.
Pleasing you immeasurably with endless fulfillment of truth.
I am weak.
©2011 Garden Summerland