© Bone Grotto
Mona
Arizona, May 2014
Mimi
Wolske-Mona Arizona™
All Rights Reserved
Pixie Sticks
His
kisses were like them...an explosion that
made
her knees weak
made
her eyelids fall shut
He
lavished her mouth and tongue with a nova of color
Nothing
should peel her away
Armed
like a naked savage
she
was a thought pugilist for
all
the romances she never had
in the
brilliant golden depths
Behind
him
a
backdrop of color called October
primaeval,
ferine, simultaneously
cultivated
and wild—gentleman lover and Dom—
into
her grotto with his bone
Nothing
would peel her away
Nothing
mattered
Coming
or going crazy from his love
was a
blessing and loving him
was
loving herself loving him
self-stimulation
was everybody's fool
Nothing
could peel her away
Treasured
moments and torrent rapids
heart-pounding
lip-crushing storm-echoed
rapture
despite the heated chill of naked skin
to
naked skin swimming in the sea of lust
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