Perfumed light is exhaled with every word of guidance she spews. Splashing on my chest like a refracted blade of incandescent erotica, it burns thru cotton and skin with a cultured hiss. I welcome the singe of Christian heat as it penetrates bone and fossilized layers of self-loathing, her welder’s torch of advice a fiery balm. A blossoming idolization feeds on the light, a gorging of violet prisms and alluring beacons; brunch for an aging silhouette. As her mouth continues to move, the radiance intensifies until my pores burst open, tossing strobes of my own light onto her polyester blouse. This depraved beam of drunken obedience slithers from chest to mouth, then slides down her throat like a shot of melancholic bourbon. The clock chimes, ending our hour with the consumption of one another, our minds distorted by the strange light of a mutual craving.
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The lighting adds so much to this scene. Love it.
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