why do they say lips-to-lips when boys touch her lips with their mouths open, their tongues knit hers like two ropes in concord to make a thicker one, their teeth bite the lower soft part until she bleeds a line, and their saliva, they mix to hers like honey and saps or lovers from warring borders stick and *** to bear a new taste of offspring
why do they say lips-to-lips when it feels more like a mouth-to-mouth tasting ****** flesh
the only time he told you he loved you was when he pressed his mauve lips to yours and your tongue got twisted inside tasting the thick honey he sipped between your thighs;
when his claws dug deeper and deeper into your muffled skin making your body mottled with purple patches and scratches with rosy blood that hurt so lovely like thorns of roses;
when his hands crawled around your body and his fingertips touched the parts men should not touch;
when he finally entered inside you, penetrating the orifice every man dreams of getting in;
when he kissed parts other than your lips licking your neck tasting the sugar and caramel that was your sweat;
when he clenched your belly, squished it like what he did to your breast and to your horror it felt like a knot tightening the flesh.
it was when the wails from your throat were the words you could only speak. the groans and moans served as phrases when you couldn't spew well the correct formula to whisper the sensation you felt.
the only way you could tell him you loved him too was him to work rough but gentle, to go harder and deeper while his tongue kept searching yours, while your bodies clung chest to chest and skin to skin dipped above the soft foam inside that chamber, and he did.
finally, straining your legs apart- only wider this time- pushing strong forces against the nest between your thighs, collapsing his body, singing moans and triumphs as if he just held the haven, he whispered something drone you also tasted on his saliva, "it's done" he said and, in that moment when he stopped driving and he pulled his manhood stick back from your nest, you knew, it only was your body that he wanted.
i can feel the ship that you are, voyaging inside the wormhole that is an object of my purity. i can sense the pleasure you keep driving inside like a mixture of wramth and rage. the moanings and flickings halt when you run out of force to keep entering the abyss that i am. all of the sudden i feel the fuel that keeps you active and running. it litters all over the stars and rocks and bodies that embody my purity. it's quite a mess but it's haven. somehow you are a ship and i am the universe.
i was the land you once loved and you were the voyager i admired i remember you kissing every part of me with those steps of yours making voices through rocks as if singing with the ocean. i was sleeping when you explored my body and i felt the mixed tenderness and roughness you exerted while indulging yourself in between my legs. you fell in love with the beauty i had and all the flowers i always bear in my land. you knew i was pure like a virg¡n that was so thirsty for a miracle of rain and flood. the trees, the fruits, the flowers, all went thanking the gods when they had seen you exploring the untouched. you appeared from nowhere like a merman from a sea that made my body aroused. for a long long time my soul was asleep waiting for a knight to kiss the purity that my body had. or perhaps, waiting for another soul to live in me and indulge itself on exploring the parts yet to be explored. after all, you were a voyager just another voyager yet the first voyager who skirred my flesh and treasures just for your self-indulging expedition and you... you never came back.