Whiskered breath, hot on her ear.
Callouses scratching with horned grasp,
she twists and writhes
both hoping and pretending
Strength and demand fuel him.
Her softness is both lure and limit.
Her whispered denials are enflaming
for both of them.
Rolled in sheets and tangled limbs
salt from sweat on their shared tongue
they push, pull, withdraw and slam,
bite, as a kitten bites a litter-mate,
lick, the way ice cream cones would be licked in Hell,
feasting on the flesh sparking the soul in their arms
while time drops away
To feed this hunger,
fuel this fire,
warm these lives,
they will come together -
The chance for Love
the probability of Pain.
©2010 Christopher Reilley
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