It is what the eye sees when it closes, 
what's behind the drawn lids. 
It is when the senses heighten 
and the dampness of heat can be felt by the fine hairs on the surface of your skin 
--hairs that stand and fall at their own bidding. 
Small sounds reach from behind the obvious and whisper in your inner ear. 
The words are in code, 
but your heart remembers the echo of the womb.
It slows to a rhythm that is truly yours. 
It is the base beat to images that now flood the mind. 
You are a fluid thing always watching, always changing form. 
This body that is you is not yours. 
You are the girl within, always waiting, 
water heated right before the boil, 
watching, swimming through a sea of emotions. 
It is what these feelings taste like. 
Each flavor is unique. 
Each pain its own. 
Some will tease the throat 
and not allow you to swallow. 
It is the moment you inhale and realize you can't breathe. 
It is the panic. 
It is the calm. 
It is the woman you are now, 
the slow, steady swirl that is your hips moving against him. 
It is the pursuit of your own pleasure, 
the moment when you lock your legs, 
tighten your thighs 
or suddenly obey the urge to ride on top. 
It is the quietness of a forced delay 
amongst sounds that animals wish they could make. 
They are his sounds and your sounds intermingled, 
twisted. 
They are the music that makes you leave marks this time, 
your teeth on his skin, 
your nails down his back. 
He is inside of you but you are every muscle and every nerve. 
You are power and weakness rolling like thunder. 
You do not want the salt of your own tears. 
It is his you want. 
It is your name he should cry out as you take what you need. 
And when he does, 
you open your eyes to see the contortion of pleasure wash over him. 
His face is a reflection of the pleasure you control. 
You are the tsunami that has unseated this god. 
His eyes are squeezed shut and there is a tear. 
But, all you want is for him to see you. 
Witness this flash of lightness that is you 
as his gates open and you hold back. 
This is the moment when he is fully yours 
and you are fully yourself. 
It is the moment you add to your list. 
It is the moment only you know. 
It is the moment before you shudder and lose yourself 
again. 
It is the taste of his tear on your tongue. 
It too is a loneliness.

_____________________________

©AvrgBlkGrl, 2015. No part of this material may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, or used in any other fashion without the express prior written permission of the owner. This manuscript is specifically written for Lush Stories.