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You asked and I answered.

It had been too long since we had been alone.

Just us, a great lake, and some dancing lights.

I watched you taking pictures, you noticed and turned the camera on me.

My sundress and copper waves blew any which way the wind commanded while I put my eyes on the lens.

In the shot they are dancing, the cornflower of my iris along with the purple and green lights in the night sky.

The corners of your wide mouth turned up when I slid down one sleave then the other to let the dress fall to the mix of smooth rock and course sand.


I did not have to say it.

I gave the look you have known forever and you sat the camera down.

You tasted of the blackberry wine in our glasses. I drank you up.

So thirsty. So very eager.

Your heart raced beneath the hand I rested on your chest for support.

Your mouth then danced over









I dont know if I can do this much longer.
Nothing is mine.
I own nothing.
Anything I build is knocked down.
In any other scenario I'd be the victim.

No longer a person.
No longer able to be me.
In this I am the G.O.A.T
My life reduced to inspiration ****.
Far from where I have ever been we lay beneath a coconut tree.  
The sun was mild as you lathered me in protection.
I smiled when you reached the arch of my back and slide under the bikini.
You have such large and capable hands
I felt my stress leave my body as the waves crash to shore in front of us.
In the distance an 80s classic played out of spaced speakers atop poles where wicker lights were strung.
We weren’t alone but the world fell away the moment your lips touched my shoulder.
You then gently slide my copper waves to one side to press them to the nape of my neck.
You know all my spots. You know exactly how to ignite me. How to bring me to life.
I crave your lips on mine and so I roll over to look up at you. Your hair is piled high and secured with a clip. Your amber eyes hold mischief as your long fingers dance down my exposed stomach to the bottoms of my suit.
I say your name to protest even as I arch toward your exploring fingers and invite them in.
I capture your mouth to silence my moans.
You smell like the sea we had played in most the day.
Your lips are still sticky sweet from the coconut we shared.
As the waves swelled so did I and like them soon came crashing only to drift back out again.
I watch you watching me as I try not to moan. My mouth gapping.
Our cabana attendant could check on us any moment…
You often look surprised. So utterly in awe of how I respond to your touch.
“Could this day get any more perfect?”
I did not answer.
I was still swimming.
I woke up every morning, got myself dressed for school, and then had breakfast with my ******.  

Everyone knew what he was but no one stopped him.  

Why wasn’t I enough to protect?
The knock was soft.  I knew it would come.  Why you even bothered is the question. You know I'm yours.  I open the door slowly, hoping it doesn't squeak. It does.  I decide not to care.  They know.  They all knew you'd come knocking.  You always do.  And, I always answer.  
We've seen each other all day.  I'd glance your way and catch you looking at me and vice versa.  The hello embrace lasting a moment longer than our other friends.  You still instinctively protect me, you take the outside as we stroll through the city,  you won't let me walk alone,  you take my hand on uneven ground.  I'm precious cargo to you.  You make sure I remain intact. Make sure my kids get me back whole.  I'd forgotten what it felt like to be cared about like that.   I look up to you now standing in the hall so very tall and bare foot.  I feel the corner of my mouth lift and watch as yours follow and then you step in and shut the door behind you.  No words.  But you say everything as you capture me. I'm on my toes nearly hovering as you pour years worth of hunger into our first kiss-since the world went completely mad.  I can't get enough.  **** I'm crying.  Why am I crying? You deepen the kiss pulling me even closer into you.  And, then you just hold me there against your long and lean flesh.   I sigh relief as you rest your chin on the top of my head and begin humming the song you wrote for me a decade before.  I feel my mask slip.  I feel myself- the real me-poke her head out. I can be weak. I can be vulnerable. I can be mad.  I can feel when I'm with you. You let me.  I'm more than a mother when I'm alone with you.   You smell like you.  A simple statement but there's no other smell to equate it to.  I could find you blind folded and hands tied in a crowd.   I even know the way you breathe.  Which steps belong to you as you take the stage in the dark.   I know you, Rock Star.  More than you want to allow.  I am now kissing any part of you I can reach.  Your chest,  the tattoos starting from shoulder down to wrists,  I lift your capable fingers and press my lips to two.  Your amber eyes are hot and you could not hold back your moan.  You know this mouth: you know what it does to you.  And,  so it begins.  The steps toward the plush bed.  The blinds are wide open with city lights, traffic, stars, and a Great Lake  in the near distance.  I push you gently and you oblige by falling back and watching me undress.  
"*******"  you whisper into the night. I know this is not wise.  I don't care.  I've nothing but myself to lose.  
You struggle to breathe  the moment my hand reaches your zipper.  You're swollen so thick I'm almost scared of how good this is going to hurt.  I start at your base and slowly lick up.  I keep my blue eyes on your face as it fills with passion I take the tip allowing my slobber to get you nice and sloppy.  I work it until you're gripping my long copper hair with one hand and the designer sheets with the other.  I open my throat and take the length and you curse and arch and moan.  My hand on your defined stomach I feel my ***** drip as your chiseled abs tighten.   Don't you dare ***...yet.  I crawl on all fours up to your mouth. My fat *** and sopping wet ***** pressed down on you and I capture your wide mouth. You eagerly return my violence nipping and groping my hips and *** so hard I knew I'd have prints.  Sitting up some you feast on my *******.  I *** once and then twice. I didn't bother to muffle the sound for our friends.  I knew they were grinning.  They know us.  They have seen our dance before.   I *** again...and then you shift the weight and toss me to the bed even as I'm quaking and trying hard to recover so I can see that perfect face fill with pleasure. No such luck as you show no mercy. You toss my legs over one strong shoulder and slide all of yourself into me at once.  I can barely breathe and I don't give a **** if I ever do again.   It's you.  It's always been you.  My baby. My hearts desire.  The ******* who worships me.  You take long strides into me and your thumb slides into the exact right place between wet folds.  I try to scream your name but I can't form it and so I just drown.  You're talking to me but I can barely hear you I'm so deep below the surface.   What? Oh I comply and get on all fours.   You praise Jesus at the sight of my *** and ***** presented at once and toy with me by sliding the tip against the lips before entering slow.  You're savoring this trying not to explode in me just yet.  I'm so hungry I begin to bounce my *** off you and you start speaking in tongues.  Harder faster deep.  I feel my hot *** drip down my thighs.  I can barely hold my self up and soon give up and I'm now on my belly stuffing a pillow in my mouth so that all of Chicago doesn't know how good you **** me.   No one else comes close.   I hate that it’s true.  Because, it means I’m never satisfied when we are worlds apart. You're so close, sweating to me, as deep and you could get you're moving my hair and kissing my shoulder and then teeth sink in as you fill me with hot ***.  More?  Oh god baby.  You moan in my ear and one hand finds mine gripping the sheets and it links our fingers as the other takes a hand full of hair.  You're still moving in me giving me every last hot drip.  When you finally fall to the side  you rest your hand on my *** and we both struggle for air.    The only thing I needed more than that was what came next.  When you can finally catch your breath you begin the worship.  The kissing. Every inch of me, each eyelid, the nose you think is so **** cute, the lips you sing about,  chin, shoulder,  you linger around each ****** making me beg for it before your tongue flicks over. You feast on one with your talented mouth and work the other with your thumb and forefinger.  You're an artist. You create and making love with me is yet another passion project. A challenge to you. How much can you wreck me?  How sloppy sticky and utterly ****** can you **** me? I feel my brains leak out my ears as you trial down.  How many times before we met had I watched you on screen and dreamed of your wide mouth on me?   You kiss my lips and then **** gently and I arch and moan your fingers are long you curve them and slide two inside.  I'm screaming until the pleasure is too much and no screams can form. I almost want to pull away from the sweet pain then  you lock my thighs in your strong arms and lift my *** off the bed to bury that pretty face.    I know this moment of almost too much pleasure will boil over and when it does I'll be a pool of flesh and *** and not much else.  The world could end and as long as your tongue is inside me I don't give a ****.  And it comes. The next wave to take me under.  I'm gone.  Will I ever return? 

Part Two:

The heat of the shower was a lovely shock. I step in moments before you.  There's two heads and the shower is ample but you want to be close so ignore that fact. You step in and skimmed your wide mouth over my wet shoulder before embracing me from behind.  We say nothing as the water rains down on us.  But, I could feel your yearning. The relief in finally connecting.   I love you, too.   This entire time.  And, always.   I also sorta hate you.  But, we will worry about that when you're not sliding your hands down slick and ample curves.
I am okay.  
I do miss the morning texts.
I miss being loved.
But, was I really?
Our definition of love varies.
Our definition of loyalty  are miles apart.
Our definition of morals are ions.

I am okay.
I miss glancing over and having blue eyes on me-
trying so hard to read me
but you never could.

I am okay.
Then little things remind me.
But, mostly I feel stupid I ever wanted you.

You had me.
I was yours.
You could had kept me forever if you really wanted to.
Ugh, that is not true even if I tried so hard to believe it.
I could barely tolerate the rage that is in you, the need to bully, the need to drink your life away...the denial that you are doing just that.
It is going to get worse before it gets better.
What else are you willing to lose?
Or was I never anything to you?
You sure didn't make me a priority.  
Always claiming good intentions as you broke my heart again and again.
I miss the concept of you but not the actual man.
I deserve more than you are.  
I would rather be alone then with you.
So, utterly broken and in his own way.

I am going to be okay.
Are you?
Somewhere in the middle
I teeter
I sway
I see myself furiously gathering my things too often
I cross your lawn alone at night.
Love me
you say
as if that is enough
as if love will fix it
When has it ever been enough?
When will I be enough?
You push me out and get upset when I leave
You want me to just calm down
because my feelings are inconvenient to you
I literally bend backwards for you
you don't want me
but the fantasy
I am in the middle
but my feet aim away.
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