Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 1
His voice, with its thick Jamaican accent, warm breath breathing down neck sends shivers down my spine, and I can feel my juices sliding out. Sir says I should be embarrassed by how badly I want ****, and it’s true—it’s all I can think about. I laugh at the absurdity of it, knowing Sir enjoys using the word “****” It throws me for a loop, but in this moment, I’m too needy to be embarrassed. I just want him inside me; my desire is insatiable. My body is practically salivating, she's so greedy tonight, she's demanding satisfaction.
Styles
Written by
Styles  NYC
(NYC)   
256
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems