The calling of another.
The heat of wanting.
To succumb to the length of your fingertips.
Thrust my hips forward for more.
The need for the get off.
Look up at me.
Watch my mouth wake open to the curve of your lips.
In the morning you’ll feel it.
What an odd thing it is to ache from pleasure.
The hurt from the high.
Reminders that there are still parts of me that feel everything.