For Madame and Impeccable Timing man

I lay here between the warm sheets,
..Caressing the folds of fabric as they gather playful around my naked body.
...I lie in waiting, I lie for something, I lay for your companionship.
....If only to own it for the most shallow of ticking seconds.

Something inside of me knows you feel my want right now.
..My acceptance of your proposal; comfort and satisfaction.
...Though it only took mere hours for me to secure this Sanskrit in my twisted noisy head.

The sun rises,
..Yet my fingers crawl upon the softness of linen and the firm plot of the mattress beneath me.
...I think of you,
....The sun crests loud along the horizon and burns my bloodshot retinas that perused the room in the light of dusk just moments before.

I am alone to experience such beauty, but because of the silence I am left to realize.

I realize that I am the light that burns your eyes.
I am the darkness that hovers in your empty corners.

I am a piece of you if only for this moment.
This time, this hour.
The clock ticks steadily like a metronome, echoing a melody of validity in my head.

It is in fact time for me to tell you.
..My eyes close, but your voice chimes in my mind.
...My finger travels slowly from the linen to my warm morning flesh... and as it wanders it prepares for a long anticipated, but memorable feeling.

A fortuitous play for hunger to ease your starvation.

A chance hold at the rocky shelf you yearn for to grasp in my soul.

A candle to aid your path of confusion and lead you to understanding and complacency. To reassure your stuborness that the inner conflict is now silenced.
.
.
Yet I lay here,
..unabated and inspired by the pinks and sienna of the fantastic sunrise emitting through the filter of the curtains; soft and apathetic.
...The breeze blows through.

I could touch you now if you'd not stop me
..before my caress hinders your skin and bornes the flesh of goose bumps.

I could kiss you
..had you not placed your finger upon my lips
...and proposed a sweeter more conflicting direction.

I could tell you all these things
..had you not stifled my words with sweet whispers
...of promises yet to be fulfilled.

I could do this.

But instead my fingers leave my hardened nipples and revisit the softness of the fabric I squirm upon.
I stroke the sheets patiently in wait for the lock to click and for you to walk back in that door.




I know we were supposed to do something in theme for St. Patricks Day, but... This is Madame's favorite photo.. and because she's an Irish lassie, I'm dedicating this for her.

Enjoy the full frontal fuckers. I'm weary of putting an HNT link on here because it's not half nekkid, it's full naked. :) If Osbasso says I can still, then I will add it tomorrow.

Happy HNT people! And for fucks-sake Happy St. Patricks Day!

xx Em oo