I wait on the cliff, a willing sacrifice. A high priestess, pure, but not innocent, my conscience shattered in the howling winds. My blood thrums with the roar of the ocean, a symphony of motion that sings to my soul. The future me awaits in a mouthful of blood and I am hungry for the teeth; desperate for the tearing.
We sit side by side on the sofa a chasm between us, we’re absorbed in our own worlds. You turn to me suddenly, reaching across, “Talk dirty to me?” I turn and smile, planning my moves, “Give me a moment to get changed and I’ll tell you a story…”
Now I stand in front of you with my hands on my hips and dare you to touch me. Just looking at me in this blue lace dress is already making you harder than you’ve ever been before.
My husband is in the kitchen and I am wet with anticipation. Earlier at work, he told me he’d made plans; tonight we would eat out at home, tonight he would lay me out on the dining table and eat me for desert.