As the fire builds from tips of toes so too do the woes.

Oh my the passion rising from depths of lust to the core of wanting

A MUST.

I must have that which is denied, the kind of thing seen but not eyed.

I must posses that beautiful being, I am in need of her heartened sting.



She tickles and teases her way from my toes and on up my legs her passion goes.

She stops just short of my yearning thighs and whispers sweet nothings, "hellos and goodbyes"

She continues her fingers on their wonton ride. Motionless, breathless, she lies in wait as she claws at my side.

Bighting back the sting of the pain, I writhe in ecstasy as I scream out her name.

She digs in deeper, drawing tears to my eyes. I moan softly and whimper, covering my cries.

Demanding I do as she tells me to do, I fall to my knees and worship her shoe.

She demands attention and have it she will. She is my passion, my fire and thrill.