the life and musings of a kinky slut


~ a poem ~

You feel like a drug.

The rush
at just
the smell of you.

The high
when your hands
are on my body,
when your lips
touch mine
and we kiss.

God, when you’re inside me.
It’s almost…
almost too much.

I feel like
an addict,
always craving
the high of you,
the high of us

I can’t stop
thinking about you,
your hands,
your lips, 
my next hit.
How much will I get
this time?
Enough to last
the night?
A few hours?
Or maybe just
til you leave.

And then I’ll sweat
and shake.
I’ll ring my hands
and pull my hair.

I’ll wonder:
What can I bargain?
What can I do
to have more of you?

You are my drug.
I am your addict.
And I don’t ever
want to kick the habit.

Categorised as: Gen Fiction | Poem

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One Comment

  1. So eloquent and lovely and needy