Sunday, July 22, 2012

Vanishing Pleasure

The smell of deep, red wine is on her lips. The clear glass presses at her mouth as the warm liquid runs down her throat with a slight burn that reminds her of a passion mixed with pain. Her head falls back as she releases herself to the pleasure of drink flowing with blood. It consumes her body as if it were a lover whom she is given over to, and as quickly as a lover pushes pleasure through her veins, it vanishes.

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