QuantumPhysica

His fingertips left hot marks on my skin, tingling as they traced their way on my arms and spine. His eyes were like two fires when they stared in mine, yet dark, burning with the darkness of a black hole. His lips, however, were uncanny, otherworldly. Soft and sweet, yet cold, cold and beautiful like marble. His lips left traces of blush on my skin, stripes of warmth and sugary delight, while his fingers were drawing models on my skin, rubbing and touching, tapping and caressing, dancing on my derma. When his lips touched mine, I felt my head burn like fire and my mind soar to the skies. He wrapped his arms around me and, rubbing his way

So, what do you do When your lifelong ambition Becomes your prison?