Inappropriate Thoughts

In my inappropriate thoughts

Your tongue attempts to become one with my flesh

Warm and moist

From top to toe

Searching for what lays at my center

The core of who I am

Fingers grip and knead

Leaving bruises in their wake

My hips

My thighs

My breasts

Are all searched, teased, tasted, pulled

Nothing left unchartered

Hair is pulled

So that I can not look away

You enjoy an audience of one

Watching my mask crumble

In the wake of the pleasure that you give

Legs pressed to the ceiling

For viewing and tasting pleasure

Melting on your tongue

My screams

My cries

My pleas

Spur you on in your discovery

You will conquer

It is what you promised

In my inappropriate thoughts

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