Afterimage Hunger
Shadow-thick evening settles low, turning your windowpane into a mirror that steals the city’s glow, reflects it back on curves my pulse already knows
You cross the floor with wildfire hips, each step a silent bass that rattles nerves and coaxes every careful breath to overthrow
Fingertips tug open buttons one by one, metals clink like tiny bells announcing sin, and sudden hush inhales the sparks we stoke
When our mouths collide, the room forgets its name, trades structure for a rushing blaze where only raw momentum flows
Fabric puddles at our ankles, warm reminders of the rules we dropped the second hunger seized command and pulled us past the edge
I trace a comet path along your throat, tasting salt-bright heat that beats in tandem with the thunder climbing higher on the ledge
Your nails score lightning down my back, a brief hot sting that brands devotion deeper than a vow or inked-up pledge
Together we crash upon the mattress, springs exploding into song, each chord a thumping promise none can hedge
Hips grind slow, then faster, building pressure like a stormpipe fit to burst, our ragged breath the only wind that stirs the air
Sweat beads, diamond-sharp, glide down your spine and pool where steady rhythm hammers louder than the streetlights’ glare
You gasp my name, molten glass reshaped by flame, and I—already molten too—drive deeper, matching every desperate tear
The ceiling swims, a wheeling sky of sparks, until release arrives in blinding arcs that leave us shuddering, stripped, and bare
Aftershock drones under sweating skin, a low electric hum that will not fade though lungs drag coolness in and out
We lie entwined, pulse against pulse, grins trading heat while dawn creeps pale beyond the curtain’s guarded route
Your hand draws circles on my chest, each loop a quiet oath that darkness later will invite our blazing shadows out