My enslaved mind dwells in those walls still.
Every inch of mine, Body.... yearns for the feels inside those walls behind closed doors.
I can feel your slippery fingers sliding inside the apple like a snake slithering on a tree.
Window glasses cries vapours, they feel the heat too.
I can feel your tongue sliding in slowly but surely
Forcing juices out
For you to cut and eat the cake without choking,
I must confess the party is amazing already,
And when you finally cut the cake I felt the knife going in too deep cutting all pieces in equal slices,
I made the authentic sounds of rapture in whisper growing in volumes.
We made coitus in passion that every moment of it stays intact.
It feels like a dream still
When you hit that I lost all breaks,
I made the sounds so loud that the ears listening by the door cracked.
I never really wanted you to stop...
But at least I can go back there and feel every moment.
I still make those authentic sounds of rapture...all in my imagination.
But when I come back to my senses
I lose my mind
I remember the pain born of such pleasures.
I hate that it remains fresh in my mind, every joy and every pain.