Her life has been spent blossoming her beauty
Desiring more, as the scenery of each day remained the same
She would see him from time to time
Though he would pass by, paying her no attention
Unaware of her age she surmised him older, wiser, worldlier
Youth unappealing until the day he appeared to lure at her
Occasionally he would spend moments absorbing her
Rarely would he caress her gently, her fantasy
Feeling the maturity inside her building, her strong core, sweetness
Sun often falling on her fresh, young skin, its colour deepening
Abruptly one morning, he returned with a different, intent look on his face
And shook her, rattled yet invigorated
He gripped her, tighter than before, she felt his indifference
Stifling her breath, plucking her from her family tree
The gentle touch displayed before, replaced by rough experienced handling
Warmth of contact driving her intensity, her skin a flush, awash with emotion
She recovered, pleasure outliving the pain inflicted
Detecting a slight bruise from her tryst, finding herself amongst many similar to her
Lacking confidence, she wonders if he always looked for the same type
Ripe for the picking - his choosing
As the moon sets and sun rises, others come and inspect her, prod her, touch her
Feeling tarnished yet she longs for every moment of attention and contact
No longer the centre of attention, she desires the pleasure once more
Discolouration the sole reminder of the joy through the act
Startled, gripped by her former lover, forced back into a moulded restraint
Heartbeat rapid, the charcoal material grips her curvaceous bottom
Neck held firm, as though still in his grasp
Intimacy with her harness, forces her arousal, to be taken
Plunged into darkness, she dwells on what it will be like this time
More pleasure, less pain – how could that deliver her ecstasy?
Moisture discretely rises to her skin, evidence of her lust and being
Warm air, rises to meet the temperature of her sexual imagination
Hand smelling of cinnamon takes her neck and sniffs at her body
A younger man, her new lover? Perspiration on his upper lip
Wiped away with his lingering tongue, as he forces her onto the hard surface
Light caught on the flashing blade, to what extremes will she endure
In pursuit of the pleasure of her release?
His expression non-descript, an act he has performed many times before
No longer generates any pleasure for him, mechanical, a basic need
Stinging pain whips her bottom, the lashes closer, reaching her heart
Brutally forced over onto her side, she finally sees herself through their eyes
Her life spent, a tart, the light fading
Agony has stripped her of skin and pleasure
Taking her place as one of the fifty cream virgin , to be caramelised and consumed.
Assisted and encouraged by: @kateselwood1 @frenzyofflies @Santha_G
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