Touch
-Cherry Cuntea
She's well aquainted with the touch of a velvet hand like a lizard on a window pane.
Her eyes dilated as her skin prickled by her touch. Slowly a hand climbed up her bare arm, her shoulder naked. A tongue, slender, sleek, divine danced along the ridges of her collar bone. Her body set to betray her as a voice carried through her ears, "I need a fix because I'm goin down, down to the bit I left up town." A slender hand, feminine in nature began to make its way down towards her ignited warmth. A hot breath beating against her ear, "I need a fix cause I'm goin down—-"
She felt hand to pearl contact as her green orbs fluttered open to a crack of light. Sweat drenching her face as she sat up in bed. Sun penetrating through broken blinds, her radio buzzing with melancholy Beatle moments.
