We crafted a masterpiece, you and I, borne from a kiss I longed for. That kiss, a prelude to a symphony of desire, left me yearning for a flavor uniquely his. As our lips met, I whispered for just a taste, a morsel before the crescendo. He obliged, as he always does, and with that sweet morsel, I was transported beyond the confines of the room. My mind took flight, my body sang in response, and my yearning for him deepened.

It began with a mere sample, yet soon, I was insatiable. Pleasure intertwined with pain, a delicious agony, and he, ever the maestro, promised an encore. I savored the moment, longing for the interlude to stretch into eternity. But the stage was set, and we found ourselves enveloped by an audience, their eyes alight with anticipation. They craved an encore, and he delivered, conducting a ballet of passion through me. I surrendered to his lead, to the sensations I scarcely believed possible. Together, we reached crescendos unknown to me, exploding into stardust, time and again.

My form remained, but my essence soared to euphoria, to the place he guided me. And from afar, I could feel their gaze, each spectator attuned to our impassioned aria. It was our song, fervent and formidable.

Your body is like a song as it moves slowly; you start with a kiss. You work your way down and take him deep in your mouth. You sing a song of passion with your deep soft strokes slightly moving faster. He moans of pleasure to your beat. You take a breath, wanting more, and I ask where did your mind go? Is your taste for him sweet like the melody you play?

You take your time and play until your yearning becomes a drumbeat between your legs. Did the pleasure turn into pain as you wait for his surrender? We move our way to the stage where your song becomes a chorus of screams. As he moves through your body, the music he played, music both of you created, and I danced to your song as the music rhythms went faster this time. Making both of you explode in ecstasy again and again.

Where did you go while others watched from afar? Did you notice the awes on their faces?

Eventually, the only act was yours while the world watched, and we all played in a crowd with different vocals. How did it feel for you? Did the music that he played affect you? Did you dance to the vocals of others? Did you feel their gaze on you while you played the song? Were you as lost in the song like everyone else, while they watched and enjoyed how he played his music with your body? Or did you just let the song continue, and your mind wanders off?

“In the crescendo of our shared breaths, the world fades to a hush, A symphony of whispers, where every touch is a brush. The canvas of our skin, painted with desire’s hue, In the gallery of the night, our passion is the view."

Feeling—it’s such an alien concept, yet it enveloped me. It felt good, to be adored, to be seen for who I truly am. No masks, no alterations. He seemed to care, and I let myself bask in that warmth. But it was a mirage, a lie. He didn’t stay, and the pain that followed was a stark reminder of why I had closed off my heart.

Yet, through the hurt, he unknowingly taught me something vital. I yearn for love, for adoration, for a connection that’s uniquely mine. I thought, for a fleeting moment, he was my soulmate. I felt it, but it wasn’t reality. Despite the disillusionment, one thing is crystal clear: I will continue my quest for true love, for my soulmate. He’s out there, somewhere, and our paths will cross when the time is right.

My affection for you has evolved, taking shapes I never anticipated. I’ve loved an image, a figment, a man conjured in the recesses of my mind—yet you stand before me, similar but starkly real. Your intellect is a tapestry rich with knowledge and curiosity, and your kindness, humor, and love are genuine. When you speak, you captivate me, leaving an indelible impression.

But the truth remains—we are still strangers in many ways. Perhaps it’s time to pause this whirlwind of passion, anger, and judgment. Let’s start anew, with no final destination, for love is a journey with no true end, only paths that we choose to walk together or apart.

Your affection, once a saccharine dream, gradually revealed its acrid truth. Your confectionery deceptions ensnared me, words of love as alluring as they were hollow, whispered by lips that sculpted beauty itself. You spun yarns of everlasting bliss, yet what I consumed was the apple of deceit—its venom lulled me into a stupor. I wandered, somnambulant, through the fantasy you crafted, blind to the folly of surrendering my essence to you, relinquishing my autonomy.

To envision you as my savior, the prince destined to break the spell with a mere kiss—how misguided I was. Instead, you were the puppeteer, twirling the spindle, observing as I plummeted repeatedly into the abyss. Was it my own naivety, offering my heart to a phantom clad in sweet falsehoods? The chocolate-coated lies, oh how delectable they seemed. I confess, they were a delight to the senses. Yet, the stark reality remains: you were but a mirage, a figment far removed from the idol I had conjured in my mind’s eye.