In this moment, I am both an observer and a participant, feeling every ounce of her pleasure as if it were my own. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of us in this private, electric connection, where every sigh and moan feels like a secret shared between lovers.

As I watch, a part of me wants to step into the room, to be a part of this intimate scene, to feel the heat of her skin and the intensity of her passion up close. But I stay rooted to the spot, captivated by the beauty and vulnerability before me, my own breath syncing with hers, the space between us charged with unspoken desire.

The way her fingers move, deft and confident, sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t tear my eyes away, drawn in by the rhythm of her movements and the soft, intoxicating sounds escaping her lips. Every touch seems to ignite her more, her body arching and trembling in response.

My breath catches as I take in the sight, an unexpected rush of heat spreading through my body. Her eyes are closed, lost in the pleasure she’s giving herself, completely unaware of my presence. I feel a mix of awe and desire, mesmerized by the raw intimacy of the moment.

Her master towers over her with his hefty might.
His eyes pierce through the shadows.
Commanding and bold, he startles her.
However, she capitulates to his aura.

She succumbs to his will, a willing slave.
Confined by his power, she cannot behave.
His words are tender, his touch like a feather,
she pines for his control, her soul in his hand.

In the dungeon of rapture, they explore their appetite.
Her master, like a bat, hovers over the dim light.
Sweeps her with his wings to a waltz of submission.
And takes her to the ride of darkness and delight.

A coating of fear decorates her face.
He surprises her with acts that leave her afraid.
She is hesitant to continue her master’s calling.
But her body is dissimilar, peachy, and pulsating.

Her master takes her on a trip of ****** events.
Where she gasps with fright, moans with pain,
and pleasures herself to the sound of the rain.
He takes what he wants; she surrenders it all.

He puts her in her place with words of degradation.
Then showers her with warmth and affection.
Her master kisses her, just like aftercare.
In each other’s arms they find solace in times of despair.

O mistress, your gentle eyes were a warm angel’s song.
Your glazed almond skin was soft like a ******'s touch.
Bound me in chains of desire and sin in your love dungeon.
Your euphonic voice calls out to me like a raven’s tweet.

I licked my lips and pleasured my *******.
My face flushed like a thorny rose.
I reached out to caress her tendril twine of hair.
She whispered sweet nothings that filled the air.

O mistress! Our love is wrong.
In the heat of this forbidden love
we embrace the eternal night,
sharing a kiss in the moonless delight.

My body’s a canvas, craving her touch
I yearn for her sweet *******.
Pain and pleasure whips me to shape.
My love for her will always creep.

O mistress, come close to me.
Print your skin on my pale flesh.
Prepare me for my best nightmare.
Where you invite worship for this time.

You stab me with love like a swordswoman
and make art out of my darkness.
No demon or god can tear us asunder.
There is still beauty in this immoral hunger.

O mistress, I submit every ounce of my soul to you.
For you have your way with me for eternity.
The bellowing echoes of ****** rumors
will never take my love for you away.

What's the use of my hand,
if your skin is not under its touch?
What good is my skin,
if yours is not under its heat?

What's the use of my lips,
if yours are not locked with it?
What's the use of my eyes,
if yours are not looking at them?

What's the use of my body heat,
if it's not overlapping with yours?
What good is my body,
if yours is not over it every hour?

What's the use of your body,
if mine is not on top of it?
If it's not me you're sharing the heat with?
If I am not carressing it?
If I am not the one beside it?
What good is it,
if you never really knew what good is?

As she stands there,
In nothing but her underwear, g-string
Breathing heavy

leaning her head against the cold tile.
Water is raining over her body, the soap suds slow rubs against her body

Fighting her own,
These urges,
relentlessly. The pressure building is tremendous
Thoughts of pleasure --  overwhelming

The warmth of his breath,
Make her ******* *****
Shivering so hard her hands trampled
down her spin, between her thighs,
His hands are on her hips
But his hands are inside her mind

My heart has had enough
My mind had its final run
But my body
Oh god, my body,
My poor body...
It remains unsullied, untouched

Years have passed
and the past have yearned,
spells were cast
and lessons are learned.
Still, my body remains hungry
It remains still, and it's still at rest
Still, it's been at rest painfully
I remain unfed, receiving only less
And it wants to run, climb and fly
it wants to bleed, shed and cry

My body;
not only does it ask me for more,
but it demands the most.
It asks me to tour down the earth's core,
commands me to find what's lost.

The exhaustion
The falling
The soreness
The failing
The bouts of pain
The flying...

Everything my heart has fought with,
everything my mind has battled with,
my body wants every taste,
craves every punch and hit.
It craves some kind of feigned balance,
it craves a round of some dangerous dance

Yet I wait
I wait for nature to grant me the green light.
I wait for the stars to lull me into the night.
I wait for the trees to give me some reason.
I wait for the moon to pull me into seasons.

Oh it's for sure a delicate time.

For me and you both.