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.