Danaid

My lover, victim of my alluring feminine Gin, thrust your hungry lips upon my tender fell. On abraded knee I tremble at your demand. A luminescent nude, a pristine marbled masterpiece made violette effigy in your lascivious hands, I worship at your feet.

Carnal passions are my curse, and I bathe in your cerise affections, the heat of it magnificent on my maculate skin. Just as Mistress Camille was captured in exquisite immortal beauty by the masterful hand of Rodin, I become.

I claim your emblazened phallus between my delicately parted lips, soothing the savage I call from your depths. Forcefully, you assault my pallet, an impetus attack, and I am intoxicated by agony's release. My chatté is awash with the degrading glaze of orgasmic thresholds as it polishes my alabaster skin.

Beauty mirrors art, and love is no exception. In my passiveness I offer my body, my heart, wearing your mark among my flaws, symbol of an obsession that keeps me on my knees. It blinds our desperate loneliness. What you have of me was never stolen; it was yours the first time we loved.

                    
                                     ( artwork by Auguste Rodin )