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Writer's pictureTwan

Hands On The Wall


I have this hunger to be… between the wall and you.


Feeling your palms push my shoulders against the cold surface. Having only one eye open.


Wanting to feel trapped, you delivered, and didn’t hesitate to  start stroking… forcing me to take every inch you poking.


I have questions, the ones I’d ask you…


Do you feel it? How warm it is to feel at home? Expecting to feel less but it’s better than before?

Can you see it? How my body slowly becomes weak from every thrust, you must, you must know, I just can’t get…

Actually, do you hear it? The squishing noise… the moans that’s singing your song? Expanding the sound, your hips eager to meet my pelvic floor.


Attack me but in between my hips, become a sucker with those lips. Invite yourself into my neck, damn. You are the one I wished… for.


Pressured apply on my lower back side. Force that arch, I wasn’t listening… I’m a bad girl, make me listen.


Let me help you. I swung my body, naw I’m kidding. Swing my arms behind. You know what to do, secure your self into me. Let my finger lock in, locking in the position.


Can you see what’s missing? To want to be in submission, baby I want to taught a lesson!


Face smushed, body melting…


Against the wall.

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Indescribable
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