“Vanessa, you’re wanted for the weekend in Vegas. Your ticket is at the airport, but this one, well his is something special. You need to sign this non-disclosure before leaving.”Continue reading “Sunday Sole”
Like a whore in church, the eyes of the world are upon me each Sunday. Women casting stones, and men, well they all wish they could be my next victim of lust driven rage. As I stand before the world dropping the weapon of words, my body is the canvas to each will create their masterpiece of hate.
John 8:7 – So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.
Long breath drew in as my body arched upwards. Screams catching in the back of my throat, a flood escapes between my thighs. Once again, the sins of the flesh have captivated my Sunday morning. Dribbles of dew falling from my slender digits, my tongue stretched to take in the communion of my sins. There is no better healing then self-love.