The Procession in Chicago
The moonlit night slowly swallowed the noise in the street in Chicago while I was waiting for the cab; you approached me asking the way to the railway station. Then at the station, I saw you sitting on a concrete bench. I pretended not to see you. You sat down opposite me in the train. Your eyes were slowly licking my sensual tempting beauty. You were licking your lips like a vampire. The storm in you caught in the warmth of lust heated the blood in your veins. You yearned to rejoice once. Both of us moved into the silent washroom where your hands surrounded me, pampering, waking up the waves in lust, letting it drizzle heavily. The errant novice in you tasted sensual pleasure for the first time ever, quenching the thirst for a lovely woman. The volcano in your blood emitted lust. Your hands passed over every inch of my seductive limbs which had lured a million men. Again and again you licked the nectar in me, swinging like a naughty squirrel.
Come again: the tide of lust never subsides forever.
Brandi xoxo
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