I am liquid slick, boiled down under the flame of your fingers. Molten, steamy. Slow burn reduction, simmering under your touch. I am raw senses and quivering heat, pinprick pleasure and delicious, dripping ache. On fire for you. Continue reading
The afternoon sun reaches through the windowpane, light-soaked rays stroking their fingertips over my sleep-warmed skin, caressing me through my quilted cocoon, coaxing me slowly awake. Continue reading
Limbs twined, my cheek to his chest, I inhale his skin between slowing heartbeats, kittening under his hand stroking my hair and nestling into the strength of his ember-warm embrace. Continue reading
No, not Virginia.
Vagina.
The state that is its own state flower.
Or something.
So: Welcome to Vagina! I’ll be your tour guide. And before you ask: Continue reading