The following is an excerpt from my upcoming book. It’s rough and raw as the raging passion between two wayward lovers should be. Explicitly sensual as the forces of nature allows. Like a Tsunami of Love, it overtakes our body, mind, and soul. I love each and everyone of you and my blessings to all who support and follow what, we as one, can accomplish together if we give ourselves permission to not just love each other, but to dream greater. Regardless of race, politics, gender preference, or faith; but to respect our diversity within as we strive to become better global citizens in this unprecedented time of uncertainty and chaos.
“What are you doing to me? I wish I could see you bitch. Thanks again for the blindfold and binding my hands together at the wrist…you are very thoughtful. Just don’t rape me too hard with that forked tongue of yours.”
Claire you’re so fucking good at this. I’ve never experienced sensations intense as this in a long ass while. My fall from grace right into your divine embrace. Naked yet unashamed, free to be as imperfect as God made me. Just as I am, you are One inside of me.
The two passion angels of Universal God’s own choosing, sent down from the heavenly garden for such a time as this. Relationship in its purest form…the succulent enticing forbidden fruit. The need to breathe fresh vibrant life through the lips of another. That ecclesiastical energy transmitted through the touch of another, and the Universal Rebirth for a world in chaos and confusion. Zero gravity created with such cosmic grace. Our lightness of being in perfectly aligned creation within us…All you must do is release unto a pure heart that’s true.
If only the world weren’t so damn fricking cold as ice and this frigid Arctic blast. Our global and domestic leaders not only consume the blood wine of the innocence, but bolster their platform with faithless shit, piss, and hate; misleading the masses of mindless sheep right off the cliff and into the abyss. Only to fatten their own portfolios and coffers for another election cycle and another mansion on their own private golf course. Young girls and boys serving as their own private caddies and interns, as long as they sell their own bodies, minds, and eternal souls to the highest bidders.
Can these two destined to be together change the course of history in the making with their Universal love for one another? Of course not, but they can sure have a lot of fun. The world can go down in flames or an atomic blast much like that orangutan we have leading our nation. Now if we can just get Pelosi to shut her goddamn mouth for once. We have too many mental patients trying to run our country into fucking bankruptcy. As we consume the Fukushima contaminated fish those Reptilian Shapeshifters feast upon the body and blood of the exploited and abducted youth. A higher price is paid for the most innocent and virginally-pure. Call it population-control in overdrive because the end of days as we know it draws near. At least that’s what the loudmouth preacher shouts out to every passerby sinner. John 3:16 says no matter how fucked up this society gets we will still be saved from hell. Well it sure is if I’m without my love angel and my bag of weed.
News flash…Unlike those guidance counselors or life coaches who told us we can achieve anything we dream about if we work hard enough at it. Well I’d hate to burst your bubble, but that imaginary land of magical mushrooms, rainbow dildos, purple indica, and heavenly zero gravity sex…Well it just ain’t real. Just like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Unless you are the energizer fuck bunny in the Land of Oz and you are screwing dirty old Saint Nick as he showers you with tons of gifts. Maybe it’s the threesome fantasy you are considering; along with all those drawfed little elves. Don’t be fooled by their shoe size because their junk just might be super-sized. They have pills for that shit now I hear.
Now where were we…oh yeah Claire and her new lover are both together again. But damn it if Claire isn’t sexing some gal in the present, she’s mind-fucked by the sins of her decadent yet delightful past. She’s gonna ruin it for her latest tryst is she keeps reliving her ex’s. Cause’ god knows she’s in too deep this time.
Claire’s in the shower, steam rising up causing all the translucent panels to fog over as though she were back in high school in the back of a decked out Mercedes SUV getting fucked over and sweated on by the star athlete at High Point overlooking the downtown Raleigh skyline. The locals called the discrete hideaway ‘Fuck Point’ but the cops usually let them slide. Hell one married officer was courting a minor if you can call it that. More like supplying the booze and pot for the young sacrificial virgins.
Didn’t ever imagine last night at the Capital Club I would find my face in between the thighs of a first year foreign exchange student from France.
They both were grinding against each other in the middle of the dance floor, totally oblivious to the other patrons around them. It’s as though it was high school all over again and she couldn’t help but to get off with the nerdiest girl in school she ever met.
Now in college; always a whore on the outside but a total geeky cheeky chick wanting to get it on with a good read both in the study lounge and in her dorm room. Sex was just her reward for being bad-ass and playing her role well as a model star Associated Student Government representative and a proud member of the local Young Republicans. But hell if she’d let political affiliation stop her from being seduced by the next best sweetest thang the campus had to offer.
She participated in the Ron Paul Revolution campaign since she was more of a libertarian at heart. She felt it was nobody’s business to be in her fucking vagina, bedroom, or choice to smoke herbal mystical magic. The government has long profited in the drug war and many, if not all, the overseas conflicts had something to do with either arms trading or drug exchanges. Chris Stevens was murdered in Benghazi to keep the truth from coming out and Hillary Clinton is guilty with his blood all over her destroyed or hidden documents.
Ron Paul was right that America should not be the worlds police or have our taxes used to fist-fuck any nation crying out for daddy. We have enough shit as a country to deal with. Our elected leaders are so consumed in their cocaine-induced orgies; jacking their AR-15s off as they shoot their loads all over a populace of groupthink zombies. The reason she chose to control her own destiny and her University studies along with her professors helped her to ‘come out’ of her self-contained societal-conformed closet.
It was her Southern Hospitality she had an obligation to oblige in and God knows she was an extrovert people-pleaser anyways, which made her doors always open and her negotiating skills part any ‘she’ that crashed upon her shore. Her lagoon was calm and inviting for any catamaran, yacht, or fishing boat docking on her port. Much like the Visayas in her own Girls Only tropical paradise.
She really didn’t need an excuse since she being the bookworm she was. She was just tired of being everyone’s freaking encyclopedia and desired for only one girl to read and research her mind, body, and inner goddess in the annals of the thesis section of lonely asexual students. The reason Claire was always in the library checking out books, just so she could talk to the newest exchange student working the desk. Maybe it was her glasses which she insisted Antoinette kept on during their fore play sessions in the back dusty room where most of the surplus books and backup media were put in storage. Since they both were trusted honor students no one would bother to check up on them, especially during their personal breaks so they had ample time to savor their main course and eat each other out for dessert. She loved how Antoinette’s sweet spot tasted and smelled, putting her into a trancelike state as she sucked on her fav lollipop.
Waking up to a person you just met over drinks last night was not what I expected. I was totally wasted and out of my goddamn fucking mind at the Canyon Club watching Dokken perform their greatest hits. It’s as though my inner goddess just lit up again and wouldn’t stop dancing like that Blunt we smoked while they cranked out Paris is Burning. Don Dokken still got it going on. Ironically after a few glasses of Barefoot Merlot I felt as I did on study abroad in Europe. During my coursework at the International University in Stuttgart I had met this Parisian. We had hit it off the first time we set eyes on each other. She was the Sasha Grey of my young adult life and my first full on Girlfriend Experience. I had never been with a girl before but always was a bit bi-curious ever since I took that class on Human Sexuality and Gender Studies at North Carolina State University.
Damn if I’m going to question my internal curiosity and my attraction towards some Mango scented persuasion. That night in Paris brought back some vivid memories to what is about to transpire here in Southern California. I’ll blame it on the Santa Clarita Diet. It seems to have taken everyone by storm, just like that nasty bitch flu bug.
“Clairelove,” the sweet serenading voice called out to her from within a dream. Claire opens her eyes to a big smile and sparkling white teeth slowly wrapping pinkish lips around hers, awakening her to a semi-conscious state. As if her body is suspended between a tropical paradise and this reality under the sheets.
“Itold you we’d do it up in retro style on your big day. If you weren’t getting so damn old I’d put all 21 candles in that cake of yours and light your ass on fire,” Samantha laughs so hard her barely contained breasts seem to bounce under the flimsy onesie she is wearing.
“Not like your butt sitting on top the cake wouldn’t be so bad. I’d just lick all that icing off you and then just plant my face on your tight little star…giving you an enema with my tongue so deep into you as I fuck your inner goddess with middle finger. You deserve nothing less than my very best pianist hands and serenading mouth. Anything I can do to get your mind off your past flings and ghosts of girlfriends past. Besides I’ll fucking own you bitch with every caress and savory kiss over every inch of your sweet tasting body. God I’m drippin’ wet already.”
Claire backs away slightly from Samantha’s mango scented breath because she knows her own probably smells like dragon piss. “I’m so sorry but my morning breath probably stinks like skunk. Let me brush first and freshen up.”
“I don’t fucking care how you smell, look, or taste so early in the morning. I love you just the way you are…my scrappy half-dazed sleeping beauty with a body to never ever let go of. I just want you to stay like that; all naked and unkempt. Without that Kardashian Hollyweird makeover. They can’t hold their beauty on the red carpet like you can baby.”
(The moonlight shines across their bare glistening skin as the stars align for a wicked evening performance to remember…)
She snuggles on next to her as she allows Claire to unzip her onesie from the front as she slowly undresses Samantha. Her breasts eager to see the morning sunlight shining in through the sky roof overhead. Samantha steps out of her onesie as she pulls it down over her feet; throwing it to the reclining chair nearest the closet. They are now both skin to skin as they embrace each other tightly; kissing each other slowly from their lips to their neck.
“Oh my god, when did you get your clit pierced? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to surprise you, Claire pie. Don’t you like the diamond stud?”
“You know I do. So that’s why you didn’t want me going down on you…and all this time I thought your uninvited friend came to visit you again or you got a rash that you didn’t want me knowing about. You crazy fucking slut, but you’re all mine now and my tongue is gonna be all up in that cute little place I love to call Home Sweet Home.”
After all they went through just to get to this point…to that place far away from the hell of their past mistakes, failures, and misguided choices. If heaven didn’t come down to save them, they found their own salvation in this secret shared paradise they each can call home. Claire would heal Sam’s broken wing with more than a kiss and her loving embrace.
LikewhatgoodisthisfictitiousHeavenwhen I’ve got my guardian angel right here under the sheets with me to protect us both from the demons of our past, Claire thought to herself as her gold cross necklace rested gently across her sweat glistening chest. Her angel with a broken wing fell right between her legs when she needed a release from her inner turmoil the most.
God created intense passion for a reason, perhaps as an escape from the sins of this chaotic reality of life. As if being with the one you love no matter the cost or the personal sacrifice in a world gone insane. Where intimacy and pleasure is repressed and even verboten for the sake of not offending the most innocent of virgin bodies.
Just as symbolized in that gold cross pressing against her bare skin under the weight of her muse, lover, and soul’s counterpart as they experience the touch, taste, and smell of that sweet cleansing paradise within each of them to save them from the vampires tonight. Ready to ravage and devour as that fire spreading between their thighs.
Well we’ll see how forgiving the night can be as it only belongs to us and that perverted man on the moon jacking off and shooting his load across the stars watching our performance sure to get an encore and a climatic return tomorrow evening.
©2018 Passion Island Cove Publishing in partnership with Passion Angel Media. All Rights Reserved.
“Paradise is never lost, it only reveals itself to those whom seek it with a pure impassioned heart. Forever yours…erotically-inspired by your sweet revelation.”
Excerpt from the Book of Angelic Passion: Be “Erotically-Inspired” For Greater Than Yourself (2018)