Sex Talk
La Petite MortSprawling, earbuds-nestled, skin-writhing atop flesh-warmed leather. Leaving traces of moisture in my wake to decorate its welcoming caress. Podcast me baby. Whisper sweet entreaties into my receptive, wanting aural canyons. Sibilant s-es slithering seductive, singing sonatas to my supine form. Demanding d's directing digits to delirium. Digits lost amongst juice-slick folds as nailed tips bury themselves cuticle deep in...