loud and clear ...

you like that, don't you?
shh. don't talk. not a whisper.
you've already told me all.

it's in the way you writhe;
struggling to get away while also
striving to get closer.

it shows in your throbbing pulse;
beating an aroused tattoo —
ta-tum, ta-tum, ta-tum.

your ragged rasping breath betrays;
elapsing to rasping and gasping —
inhale/exahle quick, quick, quick.

the silent plea glistening
in eyes going brown to green
"take me. fill me. use me."

lush and flush with rosy blush,
parted lips eager to beg
say it all while saying naught.

nipples stiff and cutting;
hard as your heart used to be,
aching with painful yearning.

legs splayed wide and open;
arms akimbo, soul in limbo;
greedy to clasp and close.

good girl.

My good girl.