Alone and Wet
She sways in the dim haze, a silhouette drenched in sin,
Hips carving shapes that make the night lean in.Her body sings without shame, unapologetically bare,A private hymn of desire hanging thick in the air.
The candlelight clings to her like a lover undone,
Tracing every curve, every secret, every one.Her hands roam freely, bold and obscene,A goddess worshiping herself in a carnal scene.
Her sighs roll low, a growl in the dark,
Fingers teasing the edge of a fevered spark.Each gasp a confession, raw and unrestrained,
An altar of flesh where no virtue remains.
She quivers, she writhes, a tempest of need,
Each motion commanding, begging to feed.The slick heat of her want a thick cry,A symphony played beneath the voyeur’s eye.
My gaze locks on her, unable to turn away,
Spellbound by the hunger her body conveys.The arch of her back, the soft bite of her lip,
Every movement a seduction, every sigh a whip.
The shadows wrap tight around her sultry descent,A rhythm she creates, reckless and bent.Her hands, her thighs, a dance of control,
Consuming herself, filling every hole.
I’m trapped in the pull, a prisoner to this,
Caught between her ecstasy and my own abyss.Her cries rise higher, raw and obscene,
Echoing lust that cuts through the scene.
Her tremors shake me, her name on her tongue,A chant of pleasure that leaves no soul unsung.The room grows thick with heat and intent,
Her desire spilling over, a wildfire spent.
She owns this moment, a queen without shame,A crown of her own, forged in lust’s flame.Her fingers, her rhythm, her decadent fall,
All hers, all consuming, commanding it all.
And as she collapses, spent and alive,I watch her pulse, her passion survive.She’s alone and wet, a tempest gone still,
Yet her performance lingers, bending my will.
In the dark, I remain, lost in her glow,
An accomplice to lust, unable to go.She owns the night, the sweat, the desire,A woman who dances in her own fire.