March is finally ending and all I can think about is fucking. Something dormant is rushing through my veins. Something needy and alive. My thoughts are all lusty, rutting, dripping, swelling, throbbing, juicy, hard to ignore. I want to stretch for you, gasp under your grip, swallow you whole. My body hums with this appetite. Stroke my intentions. Winter was cruel, take your fill.
(Heart)













