Ache

I am aching, I twitch, unprovoked. My hips hurt. When I focus on the ache in those bones it reminds me of the awkward contortions I pull for you, the strength and pressure it takes to form resistance against the repetition of your heavy thrusts. 

My cunt is swollen and used, the lips are pink and full with blood. I have been stimulated and over stimulated and it just leaves me wanting more. 

More pressure and contact, the feeling of your hand on my throat, or your palm flat on the curve of my bottom. The feeling of you invading me, impaling me and hurting me. Twisting my nipples in your fingertips, make the skin burn. Pushing  your lips against mine, sweat and breath and the heat of your body. I always beg you to let me touch myself. I want to touch myself now, I want to slide my hand down my soft stomach and wedge it between my thighs. I want to crawl into bed and rub myself and push down and clench and come. I want to swallow my breath and absorb myself in the darkness and the silence and feel my pleasure shatter outwards from my body like broken glass. Smash, explode, crack, and fade into an ember. 

I want to feel sated. I want to feel satisfied. I want to stop aching, but the ache never stops.