I want to give you the kind of pleasure that will render you
helpless, how intoxicating it is be at the receiving end of this torrential
desire…your body is magnificent. A temple, they say…and am ready to pray.
Your eyes, those dark hollows they pull me in and I dive
right through forgetting to come up for air. Those dark irises are perfect
companion to your bronze skin, the dark tumble of your hair. I love your mouth,
plum, breaking in to a contagious rapture of laughter. Your nose haughty and
bold, poised to look down on somebody.
Your neck, taut, angular, muscular, smooth and oh so
serious. I love how your collar bones make hallows and respond to the calling
and the graze of an encircling thumb.
I love your hands. The elegant fan of your fingers, squared claws. The veins of strength
they hold you as you hold me. To have your palms sweep through the thick of my
hair, grip, clench and tug. To have your fingers comb through the untamed wild
of my locks.
I will paint your shoulder blades with my tongue, linger at
the curve, and kiss the spread of your forehead, cup your face in my palms. let
me stay right where we are. Move nothing, not a muscle. Not a moment. There is no shame in our
stillness.
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