the heat is on

the heat is on

The country sighs under the heat, heat rushes through the city.
I sigh too. Heat is waving through my body.
What fascinates me in summer is the vibrating air that I can see above the asphalt or in the distance above beach sand.
I also vibrate. Inside.
There is a particularly strong desire for something that one lacks.
I also yearn. For you.
Summer.
When the ocean water gets warmer and the drinks you drink cooler.
Your hair lighter and your skin darker.
Rumor, music, hearing people talk on the street. Until late.
Nights become longer.
Sex that is sultry. Warm. Sensual. Slow and sticky.
I love this kind of nights.
Too hot to sleep, because the heat is on.
Too horny to sleep, because the heat is on.
Too much of everything fun and laughter, because the heat is on.
You’re on.
I’m on. You.
I kiss your lips, soft and full and beautiful.
I use my tongue to make them wet. Slowly. Gaze into your eyes.
I’m licking drops of sweat from your face. Tender. Taste your salt on my lips.
It is such deliciously fine salt, you who become part of me, at least this very moment.
This moment of merging, with this heat, is almost comparable to ‘melting together’.
Talk about melting.
Ice cubes.
On my skin.
Around my nipples. Hard. Are they. And they become even harder.
Continue your way down.
Where it’s hotter and better.
Blush me, baby.
Between my legs, where the fire is burning.
How you spoile my clitoris with that ice cube. Playful. Teasing.
Making me wet. And wetter.
Let it melt, go in me.
Do it all.
Let me cum and then lick that wonderfully cool moisture.
Let it pass your tongue, your lips, let it drip over your chin, let your cheeks shine, your eyes arre already.
Summer.
Where life is better and (increasingly) hotter.

N/A

All artwork by Puck Rietveld