DC is not just a place

I swear I recognise your breath, before it traverses my flesh, in search of tommorrow.    
   
Memories, like fingerprints are slowly raising, eclipsing my heart, for you remain embossed on the cover of it.  
   
Your breath is synchronised bliss as you're buried in the depths of me, pulsating and dripping upon the notions of your ministrations as you take me to heightened places.  
   
A sudden declaration, externalising our love for intricate bindings, until I feel your hot breath upon my face before the sensation of your tongue traces the contours of my nape.

A silent ritual, in which you prepare me as you feast upon my flesh.  
   
The gentle flicking upon my hardened nipples soon turn to biting and pinching, until you sense the pleasure, extracted via the pain.  
   
Lost in the rumination of masochistic tendencies as you soothe my pain with soft gentle kisses to counteract the infliction, until you're fully cognisant in shaping and moulding me to respond to your desires as I pulsate upon you, and you draw breath from me to sustain our perpetual bliss.  
   
The weight of you beckons me until I'm quivering and dripping all over you, and that was just the entre as I taste our nectar upon your hedonic lips after you planted your seed.    
   
Your eyes seal the symmetry that exists between us as you delicately, yet forcefully, caress my senses until you feel the tremors of my eternal plush velvet grip you tightly, while my bare incandescence is sprawled across you to channel the flow of your volcanic streams.