Hands run through hair; lips, nails, and teeth on skin. Closeness, warmth. I hate warmth, but touch is tempting enough to tolerate it. Short, shallow breath. Panting, gasping, begging, whispers and shivers. Fingertips on sensitive skin raise goosebumps and neck hair. Eyes closed, lights out, quiet please for release echo in darkness. Denial.
Flowing cloth like cares tossed aside to be forgotten in the moment. But no touch there. Teasing, touching, tempting, tasting, tormenting. Blood flows hot in waiting veins, dripping pleasures splash on cold concrete floors and twisted linens and on skin, mixing like potion, filling air with aromas of passion.
In that moment, identity doesn’t matter. Only lips, fingers, skin, hair, breath, and pleasure. In such darkness, how can eyes matter except when lips gently fall on their fluttering lids? Touch creates form, texture tone, and sound desire.
If moonlight falls it falls through midnight cloths of cloud and rain then through dirty windows to silhouette intertwining human forms. Tied in knots amongst themselves. When identity doesn’t matter, worries fade and with worry gone, lust and passion become pure, as pure as they *can* be.
How carefully we control emotion under daylight and accompanying prying eyes. Under darkness’s shawl the only things that pry are fingers, tongues, and pulsing flesh. Lips and tongues and teeth mesh and mingle and melt. Fingers, feather-lightly brushing over begging flesh and rest so carefully over rapid beating heart and rising, falling chest.
Another hand’s fingers rest in folds of silk and show dominance, power, control that under sunlight we forget we have. Words in much the same ways have power here that are lost under daytime’s hateful glare. Here, controlling words mean love and lust and need and desire to give, even though they seem designed to take and break. But here we break and take in ways that create and give.
Staggered breath and trembling fingers, lips, and delicate, needful, begging flesh. Flesh where other fingers dare not venture, tempts eyes, tongue, and other needful flesh.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fkfnlg/26m_needful_flesh_erotic_descriptive_poetic_sketch