Taboo

There is something deep inside you waiting to erupt. Our earths' quake, I await, your eruption. Our explosion, I will place my claim. Once your inhabitations are slain, raw passion and pleasure will remain. That which is mine; your body and mind became.

Our destiny, hangs in the wake of your shame. Your desire tearing your apart; still you refrain. Patience fading as anticipations grows, seductions gain. Filling the voids, left by what has been engrained.

Your lips flush with arousal; will is strong, as flesh is weak. Weakened by touch, the blood rush from your head, down to your feet. Your body clutched, from the anticipation of my touch. Between your legs, craving linger; your soul longing as your body aches. The folds of your flesh pulsates. Satisfaction forced to wait, as you try to evaluated; trying to concentrate -- but its too late.

The pleasures of your mind; my fingers correlate to the cords of your body and soul, in ways only we can relate.