Sunday, July 28, 2013

Tug

Sometimes the animal in me begins to stir, I swear she senses it.  She parades around the house half naked, purposefully taunting my beast.  She smiles wickedly, licking her lips, enticing what burns in me.  Her touch lingers longer than it should.  She wears my favorite perfume.  It’s as if she is doing her damndest to bring out my rough side.  Finally, I can’t take it anymore, when she walks by for a 5th time I give her what she wants, tossing her on the couch, I tug at the only obstacle that stands between us and my hunger.


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