mood- zoned out listening to music,
I thought about you while you were touring last night. Something about seeing you on the stage always made me think about the first time I saw you. But something about your performance last night set it over the edge. Every word that passed your lips seemed to seduce my attention, and I was yours. Every thought, every emotion, every moment craved you. My mind slow danced with your syllables following crescendos of breaths, with each inhale inspiring a lip bite as your vocal notes construct hidden messages between lines, this is addictive substance at its best when you speak. My tongue imagines how you would taste as an appetizer. Paying attention to every detail of your flavor as it experiences the delicate tones of your chemistry, a recipe for pleasure. Soft flickering of the stage lights, as you started your ballad reminded me of how I always wanted to grab you by your waist and pull you close enough that my heart beat would pump your blood, as my arms wrapped tightly around your waist. I knew your song was for me. Oddly enough, I day dreamed that your legs would mimic my arms and wrap around my waist in a game of role reversal as I lifted you up against a wall, my arms holding you up while I was holding you down, my lips pressing against your collar-bone harmonizing moans softly but with the effect of angels whispers. Counter tops become support programs as I feed my addiction and but twelve steps aren’t reached, step one tongue wraps slowly around your clit in a circular motion stuck on repeat. Step two refer to step one again after you cum with the minor difference I continue past leg shakes until you can’t stand much less, walk the rest of the steps. I carry on, hydrating my throat with your honey glaze as I sing through body language love songs translated to S.O.S. tongue flicks in which our duet is an ode to recycling your waist line, meaning I don’t waste a drip. I wear your legs as angel wings with hopes that they spread as your body is heightened in sensitivity from passion. I kiss your lower lips like I’m trying to leave hickies on your soul so every dirty thought that you have after this is gift wrapped with my name on it and happens in this moment, I’m trying to leave lust bruises on your memory that you enjoy when your alone in the mirror reflecting on tonight. I want stage lights to aspire to hit you the way candle light does when my tongue dips between your thighs and opens ranges you weren’t aware that you could hit. I want every bit of your euphoria to cover more than my lips and chin, my very essence desires you leave it drenched before penetration begins. Love song, I want you to call my name as a chorus and tell me how good you feel as I perform for you the way your songs call to me. I want your deep breaths to form melodies as you get closer to orgasm, turning your thighs in to beats by jai as hands grip the back of my head putting your finger print on my brain. I guess it’s just become a one of a kind experience that only you can put one repeat as many times as your heart body and soul requires until you’re satisfied all you have to do is sing to me again.