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Tripping
Just like a breeze,
passing over my neck
so does his hand
birthing those bumps
a stroke here,
sliding up and down
back and forth
against those rigid berries
And the quivering,
soft moans and cries
I was just mute
all through
wondering if I should speak or not
but it's more like being muted
by a burning coal inside
so I gave in
to dance
unashamedly gasping
with my fingers round his arms
nails dipping into his flesh
And finally a turmoil
oh it was just the shower!

© Essie

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