Hidden Desires in "words that have no rhyme"

Slow-burn perfection defines “words that have no rhyme”: a pale, voluptuous woman blindfolded on satin sheets. Every touch in “words that have no rhyme” is heightened by the lack of sight—nipples pebbling under ice cubes, then warmed by her own mouth. When she finally allows her hand between trembling thighs in “words that have no rhyme”, the anticipation explodes. The blindfold comes off just as she comes in “words that have no rhyme”, eyes wide with the intensity of it all.