07 April Anthology: Women on Fire · 7 of 11
Low and slow, a private gravity drawing everything inward. Breath thickens, lingers in the throat, warm and heavy. Heat spreads with intention. A soft pressure blooming and blooming again.Sweet with ache, rich with promise. The center of you grows insistent.Sensitive to thought alone.To memory and the bare idea of closeness. Wanting tightens and loosens at once. A deep pulse keeps time without permission.Nothing about it is polite.Hunger hums instead of begs. Stillness feels intimate.Charged, saturated. When everything goes quiet, it doesn’t leave.It settles deeper.Glowing.A slow, unmistakable reminder of what it means to be awake.Exquisitely, relentlessly alive.Lust.