Never Too Much
Lust
Our hands roam each other’s bodies, thirsting for knowledge of the skin beneath, driven by lust, quenched by nothing but sweat and friction.
There is never too much you can know.
We had met only an hour ago, the only thing we knew of each other was how we looked. As eyes met through neon, bodies were brought together by colliding lips and dancing tongues, delving through any barrier that had dared to stand between us, and our lust.
Eyes bore into our mingling forms as we slowly made our way out the building, not daring to break apart for the mere fear of not colliding once more, sweat and spit dancing through our mouths and limbs.
Into the cliché alleyway, pressed against the grimy wall beneath high set windows, lights casting small squares of glowing yellow onto the dirt.
Quick and experienced fingers made no waste in getting through belt buckles and denim, sending shockwaves to every inch of our bodies as skin was exposed. Stifle every moan with chaste kisses as mouths worked on more serious matters. We savor this moment, for we know it will be ruined by sobriety in mere hours. We savor all that we can in this one moment as skin collides and trying to muffle the moans is a futile effort.
We only hope the owners of those squares of light don’t ruin this one moment of pure ecstasy.
Cries of names ring out in the still night air as we reach our peaks, gripping and clawing at the other, desperately trying to keep each other here.
As the sun rises beyond the buildings, I wake alone and cold, head against the wall of this grimy brick alleyway, with an open door grinning a welcoming smile and a dead virginity resting inside of me.
There is never too much you can know.
We had met only an hour ago, the only thing we knew of each other was how we looked. As eyes met through neon, bodies were brought together by colliding lips and dancing tongues, delving through any barrier that had dared to stand between us, and our lust.
Eyes bore into our mingling forms as we slowly made our way out the building, not daring to break apart for the mere fear of not colliding once more, sweat and spit dancing through our mouths and limbs.
Into the cliché alleyway, pressed against the grimy wall beneath high set windows, lights casting small squares of glowing yellow onto the dirt.
Quick and experienced fingers made no waste in getting through belt buckles and denim, sending shockwaves to every inch of our bodies as skin was exposed. Stifle every moan with chaste kisses as mouths worked on more serious matters. We savor this moment, for we know it will be ruined by sobriety in mere hours. We savor all that we can in this one moment as skin collides and trying to muffle the moans is a futile effort.
We only hope the owners of those squares of light don’t ruin this one moment of pure ecstasy.
Cries of names ring out in the still night air as we reach our peaks, gripping and clawing at the other, desperately trying to keep each other here.
As the sun rises beyond the buildings, I wake alone and cold, head against the wall of this grimy brick alleyway, with an open door grinning a welcoming smile and a dead virginity resting inside of me.