There’s a yearning in your curves that slips past mundane mortality, that throbs and pulses with the ethereal. A perfection I learn to wield. Sometimes a naked body is just a naked body, but this time the naked body is yours – a cleft of ancient unknown secrets. I’m an archaeologist finding treasure in your depths. You lay wide open and I — dig deeper
“Daddy” carelessly slips off your lips as I restrain the heaven within you. Baby girl, I am but an orchestra of hellish inventions, your body is a canvas of my desires and I paint endlessly… brushing screams into moans, cries flow into whimpers, into silent pleading for more, into unrestrained desperation for the unabashed depravity that is the love that we make
when I kiss your lips, you say “amen” and pray for my tongue to never abandon you. Your body is a perfection I learn to wield against you, for us and you say “thank you” as your body shivers. You end every orgasm with gratitude, and I pat the head of a good girl.
This is our romance.
