I don’t know what it is with that shaft of sun bouncing on our satellite, but that does it for me. When the moon is full, I ware-wolf and writhe, hungry for the elements of sex. Fire, water, earth, air. Lust, fluid, flesh, breath. Yes. It’s under the orb of light that I’m the worst.
Or the best. It depends.
Depends if I’m in love or if you’re just there to calm my cravings. On these nights, my tide is high and I’m foaming at the shore. I want you to eat me with your eyes, I want to grab you, to trouble you. Yes, I’m looking for trouble. Let me take you by the collar and pardon my French. I will inhale your warm sighs and your smell will turn me on, whether Cologne or stale sweat.
Let our teeth collide, it’s okay. Anyway, I will bite your lower lip while I press your body to the wall with my pelvis. Yes. I will trust my hips against your groin to feel the blood flow. I will undulate like a feverish Scheherazade. I’ve been copulating for thousands of years and it has always been good. Even when it was bad.
I will slide my fingers in your undies, and if you’re a man, seize the opportunity. If you’re a woman, I’ll make a grand entrance. I’m going to firmly take the pulse of the situation. I’m too famished for you to hesitate.
Your turn now. You’re dying to touch me, right ? Striptease me or rip everything off and make me goddess. Forgive my elbow when removing my shirt, I’m flustered. Yes, swallows my breasts. Cup, pinch and back to my lips so I can suck your soul…
Let me bow down, prostrate on your organs and let my tongue take your measurements. Tickle my nostrils with your pubic hair or prick my nose because you shave, I don’t give a damn. I will lift up my eyes to yours and gaze while your face betrays pleasure.
We will collapse on the ground or do it on the bed, the couch, the steps, the kitchen counter or on top of the washer, if your calves can bare the cramps of being a bit too short. Shag me, snag me and take me whole. I will wrap my legs around you and hold on to your shoulders to keep from falling. Let me ride you and test the legs of your Ikea furniture. I’ll make myself heard by your neighbours, I’m afraid.
Then, let’s take our time, almost at a stand still, so I can impale myself just right. I’ll put my hand on your throat. Maybe force the corners of your mouth with my thumb. You’ll grab my rump and churn until I growl clenched jaw obscenities.
Spit on your dick and let’s go Greek, I don’t mind. Tear me up or caress me, be tender or mean, but don’t leave me indifferent. I already forgive you if you blast and spill too soon because you’re young and inexperienced. I will also excuse your nose bleed on my back because you’re old and badly react to Cialis.
I will sit on your face and pin your arms under my knees so you can rest a little. I will pull your hair, if you have some. I will scratch your neck, if you wish so. I will whisper encouraging dirty moans while licking your earlobes, if it turns you on.
I’m ready, I’m easy. I’m messy, I’m yours. I need you to bump and grind, screw and nail, rock and roll, slap and tickle. I’m a cat in heat that wants to lion her head against your chin.
Come on, fuck me or worship me, but make that pain in my marrow disappear. Fill and fulfill me. If the stars are aligned well, I’ll probably squirt like the Bellagio in Vegas, you’ll have to change your sheets. Finally, sweaty and satisfied, I will fall asleep with your semen as a rejuvenating cream.
If I’m in love, I’ll stay for coffee and more, half a sugar, a cloud of milk. I love you. Me too. It was wonderful yesterday…
If not, we’ll meet once in a blue moon. Don’t miss me, I should visit again. Maybe…. After all, I’m like silverware, I’ll tarnish if it don’t get polished from time to time …
Yes, it’s the mornings after the full moon that I’m the worse.
Or the best. It depends…