I sit in the corner of the couch reading. She walks over and casually pushes the book from my view. She leans into me and bushes her face against mine on the way to bite my ear. Has she turns to sit into me her golden white hair smacks me across the face and I smell an emulsion of her and perfume. She arches her back has she grinds against me. My hands find her hips, my finger tips ride the curves of her soul as reality is eclipsed I find my way inside her. Her skin is magnetic as the exchange of energy begins to bounce from me to her. Powerful waves wash over steady and relentless, approaching the crest and withdrawing. Time holds no sway in this place of pain and pleasure. Her hands ride my spine up as her nails ride my back down pulling me close to her teeth clamped my neck. This is the perpetual machine, never ending unforgiving sexual prowess of a woman. I am a slave to it.