He was different.

He was strong, where I was weak.

Strong as fire as it refused to go out against the cold breath.

Strong as guilty fear...

I was always tempted to touch something like this.

But when I saw how his back muscles move, something ignited in me.

He made me feel... life

I felt it...

us, Creating beautiful music,

My hands laid against the bed sheets

Grasping anything that I could grab onto, before he took me to his world.

He wanted me to grab on, but I wanted to embrace myself on the satin playground.

He was smooth as red velvet and warm as the sky painted red and orange.

He dug himself in me, and I couldn't help to grab onto him.

Wrap my hands around his waist,  clinch my thighs against his torso.

I was afraid, this is something new for me.

I allowed him to enter me.

My hands explored what his back was doing.

I felt every contraction from his muscle.

I love the way it feels when his back muscles were moving.

With every thrust, creating beautiful imagery,  I felt his every move.

My body jerks with every touch, can't help but to dig my nails in his back.

With every pull and push, I carve my initals in his back,

Your teeth marks on my neck, my shortness of breath.

I felt it, every crack of each bone

Every soft caress, warm tingle, light kiss.

This moment of you reaching your peak

holding my body like a conversation

Articulating every aspect of my body language

Caressing and squeezing every metaphor, simile and alliteration coming out of my mouth

It was as

Today, I was his motivation, because I don't feel like legs.

We lay here, just frozen in time, but this time I drew blood.

He is my strength and secretly I am his weakness, will he ever know?

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