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Red-Blooded Performer

A fiery soul

By Patricia PixiePublished 4 years ago 3 min read
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Red-Blooded Performer
Photo by George Gvasalia on Unsplash

"Come here, darling and tell me how your day was" smiled the redhead with the same mischief of a teenager. Despite having several years already in the business, she did not stop liking that sweet opportunity to be dominant, and at the same time so vulnerable in front of her companions on occasion. Most of them, it is true, did not care much about knowing her deeply, much less wanted to open their hearts with a girl with raucous makeup. They only sought her out from time to time so they could vent their darkest desires almost anonymously. Others, however, were looking deep inside for an open heart to listen to them for a few minutes. The burning encounter was in a second place. It is the incredible paradox of living in an age where sex is offered to you on every corner, but an understanding spirit is rarer than a unicorn.

Although no one was watching her, she knew how to enjoy her body. Sheltered by the moonlight, she sometimes enjoyed strutting naked in the privacy of the room.

In the end, she was nothing but a normal woman, and even so, she managed to undress her two types of lovers without removing their clothes. The fiery-haired young woman simply showed them a little sweetness, which coupled with her devilish appearance, was capable of melting the North Pole itself.

A slight moment of hips at the right time, and they fell to the floor in minutes. How many broken hearts would be avoided if every woman in the world realized the power of her sex?

The redhead knew that there were much more voluptuous women than her. With breasts and butts capable of making the actresses of the most obscene films blush like prude schoolgirls. And that didn't matter to her at all. She knew that the size of curves does not matter so much, if not the way the body is used to awaken the appetite of the person with whom you share the bed for that night. For love or money, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter. Each sexual act is a strange performance. You undress and for a few minutes you sell the other person a beautiful but ethereal illusion of company and closeness. Sometimes that illusion turns into something tangible, but in many others, it only ends up being a passing thing. It is difficult to find another type of performance that is so simple and at the same time so complex.

She never made fun of first-timers or those who seemed shy to consume when faced with a slender redhead clad in black lingerie. With great patience, she took them by the hand and guided them to the most hidden places of her body. After all, going sensually through the damp skin of a lady is not an art to be taken lightly or learned in a single day. She was their teacher, awakening shy passions with the tip of her tongue. She was not ashamed to demonstrate what she knew. Long hours of tiredness and sweat were the price for learning the secrets of the art of love.

"You don't want to tell me how your day was, then?" the redhead insisted. Her companion only shook her head, while in silence she began to unbutton her shirt and slowly approached the edge of the bed where she was sitting. In an instant, tongues intertwined in a pitched battle that caused rivers of fire to erupt under the floor. Many times, words are superfluous when the body is hungry to vibrate at the speed of light.

erotic
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About the Creator

Patricia Pixie

A girl form mexico city who loves writing, all forms of art and the mysteries of the human mind

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