by Anthony Teth

The wind's chill caress did little to restrain her passion. Tiny claws dug deeply into my backflesh as she entwined herself around me, playfully nibbling my bottom lip between deep, desperate kisses; heightening my seemingly insatiable hunger with each lash of her tongue. It was as if the grey stones of the shadowed alleyway itself pulsated with carnality, and it took all of the self-control I could muster to prevent myself from tearing every inch of cloth away from her soft, pale form. The lace beneath her skirt gave way to blasphemously smooth skin and wet, pouting lips, and I knelt to taste generously of their nectar. For what seemed a blissful eternity, soft moans echoed gently against the cobblestones. Slowly, methodically, I made my way back up to her warm, panting mouth, and kissed it with moistened lips of my own.


Anthony Teth, when not studying mystical and esoteric literature, works as a hired thug at multiple night clubs in Providence, RI. He is the author of Nightmouth.


V. said...

Soon you will be in a land far away and you can exorcise these demons out there.

gretchen said...

That was hot.