Solomon Pen

I will be rough with you In so many sweet ways

She will seduce your soul Until it moans her name

Read to me A page from your soul One night at the time.

I have desire for every inch of you. The smell of your breath On my needing lips , The taste of you Under the covers , And your voice rummaging through every vein In my body.

If you were a book I'd Open your legs Lick the words from the pages And Drink all the ink.

Her fabulous form a slow masterpiece of motion and light, where every curve seems sculpted by hands that understood devotion. She moves and the room rearranges itself around her; even silence pauses to admire the language of her body.

I want to unravel you. Slowly. Like a ribbon pulled from a dress. Like a letter opened for the first time.

Let's drink then. Not wine, not water ,something deeper, something pressed from the hours we've spent circling each other. You pour first. I taste the salt of your skin on the rim, the heat of your breath already clouding the glass.

Have a drink with me the wine taste better on two tongues. a glass half-full is a waste, but a glass shared its a bliss. I will drink for you, a long swallow down my throat like a promise, and you will drink it all from me, not from the glass, but from the wet altar of my mouth

Sex and books they meet somewhere deep within me, where imagination and sensation blur, where a thought can feel like a fingertip, and a touch can read like a story I never want to end. In both, I lose myself and in that loss, I become more.

Beneath the ruin, There is still a pulse And as long as it beats , There is something alive In me That refuses to stay buried.

I like it like this.

Stay here and talk to me some more. I rather let my ears embrace the sound of your voice and my mind find rest in your speech. the day lasted longer than usual, I needed some piece of you to make it up for it. stay and talk some more

She was relieved when I returned that night. she had prepared a special meal for me , but I went straight for the dessert.

I want to be in you all in like I am about to reach the tip of your heart with my tip

@Secrets_by_MrsC This is so beautiful

She doesn’t rush… she doesn’t need to… her breath, her touch, her presence, and he’s already following, without realizing when it started...

How I wish we were back in the studio where flash and light listens and shadows lean closer to witness what we almost become. Every shot taken would not just capture, but linger a phenomenal excuse for closeness, for presence that says more than words.

Between pages and skin, I learned the language of being alive.

We think we want sex. It's not always about sex. It's intimacy we want. To be touched. Looked at. Admired. Smiled at. Laugh with someone. Feel safe. Feel like someone's really got you. That's what we crave.

Slow steps, measured breath, eyes learning the language of what stands before them. The way an artist moves through their own mind restless, searching, lit by something unseen yet deeply felt.