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Click hereForbidden things draw me like a moth to a flame.
Desire ignites within, almost impossible to tame.
Your touch brings me to my knees, aching to please.
Your breath, a whisper, tracing fire down my skin,
A teasing current, drawing me deeper in.
Fingertips linger, mapping the curves of my need,
A silent promise, a hunger to feed.
The heat between us, reckless and wild,
An ache unchained, neither tamed nor mild.
Every stolen moment, a sin we crave,
Drowning in pleasure, lost to the wave.
Will you surrender, let passion decide?
Or tease me longer, make patience collide?
Either way, I burn, consumed in your name…
A willing moth, lost in your flame.
I love this image of the moth to the flame!
The compulsion to seek out and experience the forbidden.
The willing submission that yields pleasure and fulfillment.
Yet, ultimately, the moth is consumed by the flame!