Matteo Santino's Recent Blogs

Take me to heaven without leaving our room, I want to dawn on top of you because by your side it would be very far, take off your clothes, we have to talk, I would like to have you by my side. Or above, it does not matter, I invite you to eat. Love makes me richly ... Do I do it?, A slow kiss that takes us quickly to bed, today eats the dessert before dinner.

I constantly think of you. At night, at bedtime, it is a true torture. I'm not going to write to you on this sheet which fills my thinking, the madness of desire

We are going to give us indiscriminately to everything that our passions suggest and we will always be happy. Consciousness is not the voice of nature, but only the voice of prejudices

Let each sentence fill with dirty words and sounds without modesty. They are the kindest things to hear and see on paper, because the dirtiest are the most beautiful

Keep silence when you have nothing to say, when the genuine passion moves you, say what you have to say, and say hot, my opinion on pleasure is that you have to use all the senses

Come, let me see you, let me know you, let me aspire to possess you and have you for me

From the dark side of your skin you illuminate me. Let me be the wolf, shadow of thirst and dog and hunger that enters the night of your body with damp, hesitant steps, through your uncertain forest your smell of the sea guides me towards your waves to touch the crescent moon of your smile inside. Let me know with my tongue even the deepest darkness, the quietest, and invoke with repeated movements.

Your thighs, like the afternoon, go from light to shadow. The hidden jets darken your magnolias. Here I am, Matteo Santino, I come to consume your mouth and sweep your hair out of shells at dawn. Because I want to and because I can. Red silk umbrella.

I will get great pleasure, and even great joy, if you submit to me. The more you submit, the greater my joy will be. The equation is pretty straightforward.

And if I Naked you in verses, I caress you in letters, while we kiss in paragraphs and copulate in poetry, causing a contextual love and establishing a bucolic lust?