rough

Four imperfect half moons surround

my otherwise unmarked neck

your breath in my ear, words invade my spirit

we play this game, you break me down

anything to be your whore


Breasts smashed into the coffee table

Fingers digging and clawing soft thigh flesh

Spreading me open; I await your intrusion

You grab a fistful of my hair as you penetrate me

I love how you handle me, cum drips down my legs

Your handprint still stings where you branded my ass

My face covered in semen; your most recent explosion

There are no soft tender caresses in this

We have our own language we both understand