Fiction
17 Mar 2018


She shifted.

She felt him still within her.

She could feel the pulse of his body against her flesh within and her eyes closed and her mouth opened.

A low growl ? no a groan emitted from her very soul and flooded the room.

She could smell and taste him - the meat that she had craved was on her tongue, surrounded by her lips and deep touching her throat.

His scent on her and enveloping the space where she lay now.

She could feel his weight on her, pushing, lying as his hips ground deep within her, her legs spread wide around his torso ... she could feel the warmth of him grow.

That feeling of being filled by him,

The intoxicating, primal feel of him within, engorged, probing and finding his way.

Watching him above, his eyes closed, his strong body push deep and hard against her, pushing his life into her and her breath out ... she could only grip and hold him tight, wanting to be let free of the mundane and mediocre and taken to a place far from where her mind resided.

The human body is a husk for a sentient piece of the universal consciousness that we all share. When we lie with another we share a shard of time with them where it is possible for our souls to shimmer and flow and oscillate in unison. That stale, raw and unfulfilling taste in the morning of something trite and mediocre should feel uncomfortable and bereft of satisfaction. It should feel as uncomfortable as that wet kiss from an aunt as a child compared to the warm embrace of a lover on a cold night.


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