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Intimate. Your favorite jazz record on vinyl painting the room. Dim lights and charka candles aligning the energies. Let me cater to you. Your favorites fruit dripping a bowl. Ready to stimulate your taste buds. Lay your head on my lap and give me your hand. Close your eyes. Feel the vibration from the tone of my voice. My words kissing your subconscious. Whispering your queendom into existence. Goosebumps trailing your arm from peaks going up and down. Appreciating God in you from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Making your mind climax from stimulating tones and touch. Penetration that goes deeper than any inch. A love that floods Earth until she is remade in your image. And I’ll smile with admiration. Intimate.
– Nicolas Monroe