a silence perturbed from a sound of a message tone reserved for a few.
and to whom, was the cerebration. an untimely proposition.
it was the misis.
oh, the misis. sent a few thousand miles from manila.
traversing her hymenal peak, i supposed. true to fact, and the fleeting moment, swoon further by a round with the elixir of life.
"cum to me,"
was my reply.
she was avid. she was away. consider she was restraining.
and i, in the same callousness of culminating the carnal aversion.
"i am horny."
it was an insurmountable trade-off. each spark doused by a buffing of the flesh candle. an attempt that would further fire the fury.
now her three words elicit a tsunami of boner images and thy wooding hormones.
she would still be 36 hours from the bedside. away for fifteen days. each passing day without her physical presence, remorse depletes, and seems certain to become a sullen and deafening idealism.