It wasn't long before the blood rose to the surface.  
A red slash on my hip
from the crack of the whip
was the first to appear.  

Next came the speckled purple and blue
on my boob, slapped by you.  
How would my cheek react?  

Hands around my throat
making me choke
as you thrust further into my mouth.  

The ache between my thighs
started as the sun began to rise -
before you were finished with me.  
(And the handprint on my arse
decided it was going to last
forever and a day.). 

Brown splodges scatter my chest
where, with your fingers you pressed;
your Indian skin enhancing my freckled completion.  

These marks on my body
map our first night together.  
When can we add to the canvas?

Image by Ellen Petrovics, my very talented friend.