If a dead ancestor doesn’t appear in the sky to stop me, it can’t be that bad of a decision
Pin me down and gently drag your lips and fingertips all over my skin. Put your mouth on my neck and use your teeth to send chills down my spine. Climb on top of me. Look deep into my eyes. Press that cunning smile against my wanting lips. Bite my lip. Make my whimper. Pull my hair. Help me let out some sweet little moans for you. Whisper in my ear everything you could do to me, everything you want to do to me…then don’t. Make me want it. Make my body beg for it.
Tulip fields in the Netherlands