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In public – the Lovers



The eye contact, the being so aroused that he has to bite his  lip or he will cry out.  The pushing of hips up against him, the slow dancing, the running of her fingers through his hair and pulling his head back so that she can bite his jaw line.


She liked being in resturants, her only appetite was for feasting on him.  A table between them; but she pulls her chair to the side. Running her hand up under his beautifully tailored jacket, scratching his back through the fabric of his shirt.


Pulling him close to her, he felt her strength and power; reminding him of what she does to him.  No-one in the world mattered only the,.  He is all that she can see and nothing exists only them.


About Prim Quim

I am an artist and therapist. I work within the themes of sexuality, repression, guilt, greed, contradiction, objectification, compulsion, itches that need to be scratched and bruises that need to be pressed. I am a consentual bruise presser, a boundary straddler and limit pusher. I interview people and witness their lives, I write about what I see, how I feel and all the beautiful fragments that make up my reality. I am the sum of all my parts - some bits move and other parts are static, some bits need oiling and other bits just run and run. I am both subject and object to myself. I am slave to my Art and so are the others who come into my sphere. I objectify and use, interrogate and examine - I need their reality and reasoning to lay alongside my own to compare, contrast, season and gorge upon. Exponent of automatic writing, compulsive self realisation and daring myself to go further.

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