Duet Without Music

I dressed myself for this occasion; I pull a drawer full of Sicilian muscle shirts ranging white and black, beige to khaki trousers are beige to khaki. I stag along to whatever place. This shirt is damn tight visibly exposing a black lace secret; bloody hell, am I getting away with this? A thick chain hangs from a back pocket into my waist, I peer down to notice hemp Adidas treading marijuana's sake. My hair slicks back into a high three tie position braid; thus the do a fuchsia warrior unleashes for a smiley face platform. I awaken black leather strap mini dress I cannot decipher how to undress, over the knee boar skin for inch heels; I am the devil's lap kitty for this unknown location.

He looks at me sweetly through a gorgeous mane twisting the formation of ganja leaves; the scarf around my throat seduces me. We both die a little; we squirm a little. Thus the last venture into torture as sensuality.

She takes my hand into a bedroom lifting me against her chest; I am not shocked.

"I'm a doctor and I don't think you are well."

"What does that mean?"

"You need to remove your clothing."

"When I am naked I am not ill. When I am clothed in front of a wolf I feel better."

My savior is a man known as my twin, he tosses me over his shoulder; we exit security sirens. Twas not for him I would be lost; twas for him I would not be lost. Being a man of many men we deny the fantasy of young women not what they seem.

"You really need to stop kidnapping us; it is a crime and an incredible annoyance."

"Yes I would also like to add to the request; we will never fuck you unless you are fucked."

Our laugh is vapor from a glass bottle.

My lips pleasantly tangle precious gems; I desire more than his kiss.

I am groggy from the illusion of existence.

"Are we still virgins?"

"Yes....."

"I feel it, I'm used to it by now, I sort of like it, can't complain, this interests our interests....."

Staring at a complex zipper I am simplicity; I am not asunder rather madly into his trousers is my wish. Damned I am; the dead is cold. His fingers flow mine to the top button, his belt is undone laying over hardwood planks; a dream is difficult to behold.

"Who are you? I dreamed of you two before; I hear your voices sometimes, I am somewhat aware of your presence. I care for you while other moments I am careless. I am sure you feel the same way. We must be of some understanding as I must be your entertainment please do entertain me as well."

Their demeanor is another earth my icy digits touch.