Monday 08.36
The weight of history hangs heavy here. Time stuttering to a standstill as stagnant as the waters of the tributary canals. Amongst the ennui I have fallen prey to a deadly sin. Lust clutching me to its heaving bosom, prickling at my flesh, skewering my sopping cunt with its talons as I squirm endlessly about their dragging tips. I want to sigh, to gasp, to moan out the air burdening my lungs but all I could manage was pathetic whimpers. I miss you.
Tuesday 03.14
Our frenzied bodies like melted candle wax, intertwined in glossy sweat drenched ecstasy. Filth, pure and unadulterated pouring from my pounding contoured body. The desperate throes energy ripples as I focus on inner divine pleasure, as your moans of gratification rage to a roar of lustful delight. I dream of you.
Tuesday 11.24
I stood among the emptiness of St Mark's Square your words throbbing as my surreptitious fingers teased at my dribbling sex. The Campanile a phallus, bronze horses stampeding as lustful satyrs, just a dryad awaiting her inevitable fate. I ache for you.
Wednesday 03.09
My fingers dragging ragged raw welts, furrowing your flesh. Your pure white buttocks branded with the imprints of my self-indulgent and passionate fury. Marking my territory like a pride of Venetian Lions. Proud and statuesque, vengeful and merciless. I crave the feel of your flesh beneath my touch.
Wednesday 14.35
Sipping cappuccino, cum froth coating my lips as I lick hungrily seeking your salty tang. Mouth parting eager to feel hot liquid scalding my throat as you pump your pleasure into the tightness of my throat. I pant for you.
Thursday 03.17
There is a crescendo of growling intensity building deep within my swollen angered cock. Rampant with the inner turmoil of nearly spent seed, the bubbling tremor of edged expectancy. I stand proud, throbbing for you.
Thursday 15.36
Ca Pesaro, Rodin, The Burghers of Calais, unforgiving white spotlights throwing shadows across my heated flesh. Tattered masculinity, sculpted musculature, a gang bang in waiting just needing a lithe and willing little fuckdoll to squirm her way amongst their statuesque forms. All the whole I writhe for you.
Friday 03.02
The fading light slanting through shuttered windows casts grotesque gargoyle shadows
of deep damask across the ancient walls of my hotel prison. Barely noticed; consumed in the memory of my tongue lashing over your deep swollen bud, as you gush glycerine gossamer like honey dew. I need to worship you.
Friday 07.54
My bedframe teasing and tempting. Brass tubing to straddle, to grind my cunt along, to coat in my heat until it sparkles beneath the 40-watt bulb. My swollen clit abraded into submission as I tremble delirious atop tiptoes. I rub, I grind, for you.
Friday 12.34
I ache to roll you over in one vigorous sudden moment. I need to kneel before the glowing ember of hot upturned cheeks. A swift retort of smacking hand, brings livid prints of spreading pleasure. The mottled mound of blush stucco, pushing upwards to receive tribute. I need to feel you clenching about me.
Friday 17.28
Ankle deep in the lagoon, wind lashed, tides rippling about my flesh, your fingers dragging at my clothing, ripping, tearing, exposing stiff nipples and pouting pussy as you push my mouth down onto your groaning cock. I pulse helpless for you.
Saturday 03.19
Mounted, like a trophy to indulge, my hands claw at taut welcoming breasts, pinching hardened nipples with brutal intensity. The pounding rhythm of lovers entwined amongst the diminishing last light of a Canaletto canvas. I sleep. I wake. The sounds of your ecstatic cries with me always.
Saturday 21.09
The Arsenal, pushed against granite walls, face and tits abraded, held fixed panting and desperate, skirt raised, your manhood thrusting deep into the bowels of my being as I scream in ecstasy. I mewl in helpless desperation for you.
Sunday 03.11
Your glistening cunt bubbling with amber delight, urges my rampant member to plunder your Basilica depths. Need urgent. Tempo allegro. Feeling you push back again the intrusion, the matting growl of intensity ensues our dance of amorous vigour. I can smell you, taste you, feel you.
Star crossed lovers. Firmament divided. Feeding on memories and hope. Measuring out time with emptiness. Clinging dislocated to dreams. Sunlit uplands. Desire and lust. Merging. Conjoined. Combined. Us. Soon.
