The Silent Lover

Words are so overrated.
Tongues should only be used to caress one another.
He’s quiet, contained. There’s a storm within him, but he need not say a word. He’s my ecstasy. I break at the seams at the touch of his fingertips. Palms brushing down my back, kisses planted on my shoulders, head resting against my beating heart.

I crave his touch.

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