A secret joy in the adrenaline rush of guilt,
the memory of a strap.
Photo by Hungrybison
A savage mixture of sweat and blood,
a gentle kiss,
a sigh of relief.
Leave a comment
Filed under Blood, creative writing, fiction, Kiss, love, micro stories, non fiction, poem, S &M, Sex
Tagged as American West, blood, erotica, poetry, prostitues, sex
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 1,114 other followers