Tell me what you want.
I'm the grin you wear as her breath on your neck makes your thighs tremble.
You're the flush in my cheeks as his fingers slide up my blouse to make me whimper.
Tell me what you want.
I'm the purple and yellow hues of the mark she left on your tapered skin.
You're the sprinkle of passion on my lips as he devours them.
Tell me what you want.
I'm the shudder of relief rocking through your body as her hips crash into yours.
You're the scattered moans of pleasure escaping my mouth as his tongue disappears between my legs.
Tell me what you want.
I'm the broken record she keeps playing while you refuse to love her.
You're the flickering flames of lust he could never put out.
About the Creator
Sharlene Alba
Full of raw and unfiltered fluid poems, short stories and prompts on love, sex, relationships and life. I also review haircare, skincare and other beauty products. Instagram: grungefirepoetry MissBeautyBargain Facebook: grungefirepoetry
Keep reading
More stories from Sharlene Alba and writers in Poets and other communities.
You, nah
I need you, and your hands in mine. I need to see your late summer dusk filled eyes, shades of grey and blue that nature can barely imitate. Listen to you telling me to protect my hearing, when I need the music cranked to 11 and I turn the volume down; realizing your voice is all I need to hear.
By Jake Trammella day ago in Poets
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.