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A Night Devoid of Guilt

 A night that scared away the morning…

God, the smell of drugs. And sex. Intense sex.

So naughty and intense like aged wine but with an aftertaste of roses and chocolate. My tongue is wet with the stinging desire of a starved dog.

And sin.

There are all types of women here, some I despise, some I crave, and oh damn — some I mark with the hot iron of my want. Wait, I love so many — I have marked those I love with the knife in my lustful eyes.

If there was a time to let lust consume all of me, this is it. Never has lust ever been so tempting and right; the mind so blank, only sounds of pleasure dominating; perfection so awfully within reach; and my instincts so quiet; guilt has deserted me, and my body is burning.

The smoke, usually so irritating, is now a welcome pleasure. Tracing their origins and their mixture as they make acquaintance up in the air, then the figures and the distinct shapes they make as they rise — God, am I high? I better be, ’cause tomorrow I won’t be able to forgive myself for a night of such pleasure, such sin, such lust.

The dances, the swaying of hips, the absurd thought that they could all dance. If this were any other moment, I’d have puked with embarrassment, but I am rather enjoying this experience. With every wrong move, I am creeping into your heart, aren’t I, darling? Slithering in there so smoothly like a snake. And I’m sure, just like me, you have no choice but to let me in.

The drugs and the liquor, each busy stimulating parts of my body that have been estranged to me; take a sip with me, darling, and sit on me, and let our souls fly up high and trace each other; let them make acquaintance with each other as our bodies have. Let them find each other’s deepest chambers as our hearts have.

My conscience has given me a one-time pass, you sexy thing; come to me, let’s make use of it. For tomorrow, my lost guilt will come back; if it asks what I did, I’ll blame the liquor and your endless curves, your silky nipples, and your feathery lips.

Your friend? Yes, darling, the more the merrier! I am not myself today; I am pleasure, and my spring never stops flowing. Open your mouths and drink to your fill, and then you can cleanse your body as well; for I am pleasure and pleasure is who I am!

I am an explorer, let me make my mark on that universe that is your body; show me the primitive parts that others have neglected; tell me the darkest parts so that I can shine my light in them; tell me the cold parts so I can sprinkle my warmth in them; Oh! You want me to find them by myself, for I’m the explorer after all? Yes, yes, darling!

You have a majestic beauty, one that stands tall above all others, making them appear like ants and you a mountain. Tis’ your lucky day, you pretty thing; for I have been known to be a tireless mountaineer; I want to climb to the top and then work downwards, opening one river after another; till the valley below is flooded — and then I’ll swim to you again, darling, and drink from the source.

It is a wild night, a night of all nights; a night that has overpowered darkness; a night that has scared away the morning — a long, endless night. A night of lust, of love, and pleasure; let me kiss your rosy cheeks, let me show you pleasure. For it is a wild night devoid of guilt and sense!

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