She left me. I miss her.
I can still taste the complexness of Merlot on her lips from the last time she placed her ruby red kisses on mine. At night after showering she would lay next to me, play in my hair, and fondle my breasts. Our playful giggles manifested into the most erotic, heated, and creative love making sessions known to man.
Her passion was as powerful and magnetic as watching a ribbon lightening display across the sky. She made love to every part of me, flowing in out and throughout the entire entity of me. Her raw emotions penetrated the core of me, producing mind and body quaking orgasms that left me faded and high for days. I am addicted to her. I need her. I crave her.
Wait...is that her I see in the distance sexily strutting up to me? Hinting eyes, full breasts, round hips, thick thighs
My muse has returned to me...but for how long?
Loving the output from your muse...
ReplyDeletethere must be something wrong about one wanting one's self...i thought we were to be musing about each other? *hisses*
ReplyDeletevery good, Q. I like this one.
ReplyDeletena wa o! i hope my own muse is a lady o! cos it won't be funny at all.
ReplyDeleteI like this!
ReplyDeletesuch imagery... me like
ReplyDeletebody quaking orgasms ... this is the queen i came to know and admire. good 2 c u back doing what u do, best.
ReplyDeleteur muse is an admired 1.
hmmm, n to think i was getting ready for ......
ReplyDeleteinteresting!
ReplyDeleteI seriously cannot wait for your book to come out
ReplyDeleteDAMN!!!!!!
She's back and that's all that matters
I seriously cannot wait for your book to come out
ReplyDeleteDAMN!!!!!!
She's back and that's all that matters
Zenaaaaaaaaaaa..your right!!! I'M BACK!
ReplyDelete