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musings, the erotics

Otherworldly

I remember kissing your lips and tasting something infinitely holy as much as it sealed me most physically to this earth, to this bed, to you.

I sat in my chair listening to scratchy voices transmitted thousands of miles over wire and electricity and they faded away, faded to thoughts of your kiss again and again. I am taken from this world, from this desk, from this office and returned to you.

Always to you and that silent moment of reckoning where we meet, where I take your clothes from your body before I take the air from your lungs and trace your skin, ink you in, ink you to life as I draw you down into soft, clean cotton soon to be dampened with sweat and slick.

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

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