*Amor y Pasión*
sin tocarse; pensando en las manos y lengua de su amado
que provocaban sus orgásmos.
Cada poro de su piel que se habría, cada estremecimiento o
músculo que se tensaba, era su cuerpo respondiendo al deseo
de las noches y dias de pasión compartida.
No vivía de recuerdos, los hacía reales en cada estrofa de un verso escrito a fuego en la piel de su amado. En cada beso
dado, en cada curva que recorria con sus manos y su lengua,
deteniendose en cada uno de los lugares donde podía acurrucarse y encontrar abrigo; como la curva de su cuello o
su vientre cálido.
Pero en esas noches que le tocaba recordar, escribia lo que deseaba hacer realidad, y nada la detenia, su amado era igual
de determinado que ella, esperaba solo esas letras u otra pequeña señal para reaccionar.
Y su fortuna de amor era tal, que los planetas tan diferentes que los regían, hacían explosión al tocarse, en un susurro estremecedor y dulce a la vez; porque no había nada más bueno y grande, que ese sentimiento de amor y pasión,
aunque nadie que los conozca lo pudiese entender.
(Marta Passero) autor @Aleksandra Oblako (ph)
His hunger and desire were such that he could no longer sleep without touching; thinking about the hands and tongue of his beloved that caused their orgasms. Every pore of your skin that would have been, every shudder or muscle that tensed, was his body responding to desire of the nights and days of shared passion. He did not live on memories, he made them real in every stanza of a verse written by fire on the skin of his beloved. In every kiss given, in each curve that he traveled with his hands and his tongue, stopping at each of the places where he could snuggle and find shelter; like the curve of your neck or Your warm belly But on those nights he had to remember, he wrote what he wanted to realize, and nothing stopped her, his beloved was the same determined that she expected only those letters or another small signal to react. And his fortune of love was such that the planets so different that governed them exploded when touched, in a shuddering and sweet whisper at the same time; because there was nothing better and bigger than that feeling of love and passion, although nobody who knows them could understand it. (Marta Passero) -author
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