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Castaway

You asked not long ago that was what I liked about you. I wonder how often do, with almost closed lips and staring between the heights of the city. I asked as if awaiting a response. As the castaways throw bottles into the sea.
The glow of sunset through the trees by flight camouflaged my answer and other words the bottle away from the coast.
On the bed, both knees, kissed. Your eyes closed lost in a dream and my hands down the smoothness of your skin inflamed. Descend yours leaving my lips, caress your cheeks and blend in the line of your shoulders as I feel the warmth of your turn on my chest. I spend my arms around your waist and you pull her towards me, my extended hands in your back down to your thighs as you surround me with your legs. I raise you clinging to your ass and penetrate you hard while you flood me with your rapid breathing and your noticing slight groan as I sink into you. Hug me and start moving on me, riding slowly, slowly. Lamo
your breasts, play with your nipples pressing them between my lips, notándolos harden in my mouth while your pelvis mine strikes with increasing force, the more violently. How violent are your bites, your nails digging into my back, your legs squeezing my waist and your moans echoing in the silence. Posadas

my hands on your waist I stop and raise my head to reach you with his eyes. Look at me, sighing, among smooth movements and sharp strokes. Look at me, and when the heat unites our bodies with the heat, when your movements start to be convulsive shudder moans when your in the air turning into screaming, the sweat of our bodies is based on a single sweat and nails penetrate my skin, then I look and answer the question of that glass bottle.

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Today was a day for years.

Your words were others but they sounded like years ago, and was kissed on the cheek but I knew as many years, and your look was different but shone like years ago. And as years ago the moon would reach you and leave you there, and know that you'll never go. Knowing that I have only to look to heaven to see you, I have only to raise his hand to touch you, I have only to give you the moon to have you. And so, kiss on the bright solitude. Y hear you speak in silence. And feel you breathe in his sleep. And all for the moon. And just for the moon. How many years would give you the moon today.

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Today As I remember it was not mine

walked by one of those streets that cut through my skin, feeling like falling on my ancient golden stone houses, I saw before me the silhouette of a veiled woman in the afternoon sun. I walked the steps that separated us with the certainty that those lines would Hellenistic mine. And when the light withdraw the veil that hid his face I knew that this woman knew her even before her. That silhouette at the bottom of the street, that face of huge black eyes, was the image of desire. And his supreme body sensual and voluptuous aroma was the bed of my greed. But the grin on her rosy lips was the beginning of the end.

I wanted a woman when it was not mine, while it was not mine. In her arms, savoring the sweetness of the soft skin of her hips, I felt the bile in my mouth when I was aware that it was mine.

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still remember his long-fingered hands and sharp claws visit my sweaty bare chest. I still remember the stifling heat that covered every corner of the house. I can not forget his penetrating gaze mixture of pleasure and hatred. I remember how it began to undress slowly. Of methodically removed my shoes and slid down my pants legs. His hands penetrating into the seam of my pants, pulling them down and uncovering my erection involuntary. I remember how his lips were close to it until you can feel the warmth of your breath. I can still remember your lips soft as clouds, its like darkness cold tongue penetrating his body touching me and mine. I remember feeling his erotic curves invade and her round breasts pressing mine. I remember his pointy nipples as stakes nailed to my pleasure. I miss my warm skin break into a thousand feelings at the touch of her cold white skin.

Even today, in the dark solitude, I smell the heady perfume that exuded her long black hair covering the nakedness of his death when he went back to my room.