Hot, steamy, foggy air,
slowly creating moistened hair
as it's gently but firmly being tugged.
starting to feel like she's been drugged
With love
or lust,
she's not quite sure
but whatever it is, it's the perfect cure.
she's feeling weak,
With shakes and quivers in her knees,
She whispers: "Just don't stop,
I beg of you, please."
Feeling things she hasn't before.
She whispers "take your time, explore."
she cant say no, she feels defeat,
Accepts pleasure in the toe curler reflexes of her feet,
She can't explain, how pleasure camouflaged that first burst of pain,
All she knows inside: she's been brutally beat,
But she isn't fear filled for this,
rather sheer dripping wet tear filled, lower lips,
she's a fallen victim of body heat.
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