stevieqgray

Continued...
I Know I'd Miss You

Debased, disgraced,
the taste still in my mouth
from when you made me
lick your fingers clean -
it's not an unfamiliar scene:
whispered nothings
sweet with venom
dripping onto skin
burnt with needing too much
[it's only a sin
if you don't enjoy it,
which makes me a paragon of fucking virtue].
Under you,
hanging on your every scathing word
even though I've heard it all before
- brutalised, chastised,
not really surprised any more -
daring you to seal the deal,
make good your threat:
aching and wet
and waiting,
almost hating you
for making me want you this badly,
and gladly taking every jolt of pain,
every violent, thrusting inch of you,
filling me with your contempt,
emptying your rage
into me.
You take me to the limits of my endurance
and then
just a little bit
further,
until all I can speak is profanity,
until I forget my own name.
Shameless,
subjugated, violated,
sated in a way that only you can show me:
I'm complete,
glorious in my defeat.

Hell...
I know I'd miss you.




Oh, and for all of you slow-off-the-mark types, check out my 'hopefuls' set.


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