The feel of your soft lips on mine lingers, leaving me longing for more. All those years, and still you manage to kiss me in ways that leave me wondering how far you’re about to take the fuckery. In the dim light of the unknown room, I can barely make out the shapes. Seemingly, the only source of illumination appears to be your mysterious smile that tells volumes about what this promised ‘surprise’ might entail. As you ho...

I was still trying to shrug my conscience away when her surprisingly talented lips sucked my oversized pacifier. No need to lecture me on the disgusting analogy. It was how it felt. My own birth was closer to Malcolm McLaren’s promo stunt with his very much intendedly scandalous casting band featuring the underwhelmingly incapable bass player than to her parents’ tryst that lead to her existence after all. A lot closer. B...

The bedroom is all set up: candles lit, house deserted, cat on her nightly tour. Looking forward to the great midnightly spectacle, I check the pendulum clock on the wall: Friday, 11.58 pm—the perfect time. All is set up as instructed. I'm sitting on the bed, cross-legged, holding the mysterious, beautifully crafted cube in my hand. My index traces the ornaments on it, the intricate designs, the seemingly erratic patterns...