This was a quick piece of prose I wrote a few years back, figured I might go ahead and post it here.





Heat, molten in intensity, washes over my naked body, soothing and pleasing, drowning out the sounds around me with a touch. I am distant and focused. Your hands pinch, drawing me back to the moment, stripping me helpless before my instincts.

I sighed as I sat down on the carpeted floor of my room, the harsh material sending a wave of feelings through me. Once again I felt the phantom fingers inside me, a moving memory leaving me trapped inside myself. It was like this every time I got really aroused. I knew that the same lust would fly back into my body, repeating the best sensations again and again. Still, it always would leave me wanting more, disappearing the second I began to swear to its reality.

Your tongue trails down my body, dismantling all words, tender and cool. I shiver as you tease me, a smile on your lips. The smile undoes me, pure and dark. My breath picks up; you trace my body, claiming me beyond mere chains, branding my mind with only you.

It was just like this that I sat that night- feeling myself tense for a strike that would never fall and imagining the fingers. I tossed my head back with every thrust; I'd swear it was real again. I felt the bolts running up and down my spine, a current of electricity skipping across a rain-streaked yard. As my head tilted to the side I felt the bite caress my neck. I could swear that there were fingers running over my skin.

Pain, unexpected but welcome, greets me. I feel the rush, a slowly growing desire, arousing waves wash over me and your hand lands again. I am driven into war, pride and need battle. Want fills. I cry out, anything and everything, wishing for more and less at the same time, my blood itself is throbbing.

My cheeks burned and I knew it was a lost cause. These memories would remain, touching me in their intimacy every night I returned. There was never a fight, I always surrendered to them. The temptation to feel it again would never stop; it was born of my stubbornness. I knew the memories would follow.

You hold me beside you, fondly, as if you will never let me go. I tremble, too many letters and ideas trying to form again. Your lips press to mine and I close my eyes. The heat envelopes me.