'56 BMW 507.

You lean in closer to my left bicep, pressing against my breast, your arm is a pressure that makes softness felt. You’re an excitement I feel from ankle to wrist, while you recite into my left ear a fantasy you wish to act out. It describes me sitting in the passenger seat of a convertible we’re driving in, later on,
In the night,
Driving along a coastline,
Dark lacing prisms from,
Occasional,
Front headlights.
Your hand lifting my sheer skirt,
Of strawberry blush,
Whipped layers,
Watching me grab,
Me,
Just at that point,
Where curves intersect with,
Moonlight.

And you not watching the road,
Telling me, tonight,
How hard,
You will fuck me into the night, and,
How much to please you,
Throughout the night,
Because, otherwise,
It will break your heart,
To have to teach me,
Another way to behave,
While tied up for you into the night.

A moody, highway lullaby heard over,
Iridescent goosebumps,
Spreading across the,
Plump part of,
Where the moon kisses,
Cherry pink sun,
And when,
My heart skips into my pulse.

You gripping my hand,
Making me feel the thickest part of,
Your cock, dripping,
Hard into the night.
You sliding me up and wrapping my fist to,
The right degree of,
Tension,
Telling me to take my panties off.

Mad I decided to dress underneath,
When you already told me not to tonight.
I know, Prince.
I planned it that way,
Hoping to gain your attention,
In a way that…

“Tie them around your wrist…” He says.

When you would say that,
You command,
In the deepest register,
Your throat goes.
You pull the slack tight,
With one grip, pull me to you,
Begging me to,
To do to you,
With my mouth,
What my thighs will do,
Later on,
Into our night,
“Mami, please…”

When you beg me like that.

Before we get to the end of the night, not slowing down, into the night, I feel your firm, inner most thighs in my palms tied tight.

I’m balancing myself between you, into the background of a quiet city of blue and electric black, humming in a ’56 BMW 507, lighter than dark, breezes across a cobalt sky back.

Holding cruise in fourth, pressed sharp and constant into my right rib cage and breast, with your hand running through my hair, holding tight.

The air kisses my neck, your face, my bare waist to ankle, slipping between my… And your hand grabbing on my… And all of our naked parts, glowing in salt, night-blue sweat and a southern affair.

Excerpt from scene.

Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.