Temple

He worshiped her.

As if her body was his religion.

Her moans, were his prayers.

And every night with her, was worth the sin.

He read her body language, as if it were his bible.

Every movement, a new verse.

Turning the pages to slowly unravel what lies between the sheets.

Her body is not her temple. It's his.

TRT

◄ A night in between the sheets

Memory ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses only functional cookies that are essential to the operation of the site. We do not use cookies related to advertising or tracking. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message