Remembering Warm
I often think of your hands on your cock. Your hands. So carefully manicured and cleansed yet, escaping all that is a vulgar strength …an intense masculinity? Something clichéd like that seems apt. And performing their familiar pleasure ritual, allowing me into something terribly intimate softens everything in me.
Then you come on my lips, my tongue, my chin – it is not just the taste I think about but even more the warmth. The exact evidence of you.
4 comments:
Love this - so dark, so precise, so full of memory and desire - will send the URL to my lover
B
ps - shit, just noticed what the post is linked to! Is this ironic? If so, I'm dumber than even I thought I was ;)
Hey Broke,
I have a hard to understand (even for me) relationship with porn. I love some parts of it quite a bit but it falls far short. My post was heartfelt and the link was meant to express a wish on what porn might be somehow..is my best guess.
And thanks!
Agree with what you say about porn. I feel the same - it can get part of the way sometimes, but usually misses the... I don't know what ... maybe 'the exact evidence'? And maybe also misses the sense of a 'you'? - the sense of the other's darkness and strength and weakness, and the way in which intimacy opens this up to view. To witness that is such a turn-on.
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