Message in a Bottle #6
Fingertips ache to trace the lines of your back. I miss the scent of you. I long to breath you in. Shutting my eyes tight, I search for the taste of you on my lips. I listen to your recorded voice on my phone and remember the commands you whispered in my ear that made me wet.
Message in a Bottle #5
Am I a willing thing kneeling at the foot of your bed, bound to you as tightly as I am by these red ribbons biting into my fevered flesh?