Worship Me After the Storm

The room still pulses with the echoes of our wild passion. my body, glistening with sweat, remains on all fours—offering you one last view of the chaos we created. my curves tremble, inviting your gaze, craving your hands. i arch my back, a silent plea for attention, for adoration. every inch of me is yours to admire. the night may be over, but i’m still your playground… aching for worship, made to be desired.