Further provoking desire,
lips barely brushing skin, as gently I lent down, my cinnamon lipstick leading
a certain marked trail along his thigh. Instead of a hapless lover, a goddess
of erotica freed herself from inside of me, and in insurmountable contradiction
lead me to the wanting more of him. I had not touched him yet, as he expertly
navigated his way down my torso, at first drawing nothing but breath, but then
pressing so hard into me, leaving me in a hypnotic trance that cemented to my memory.
In the morning,
he left one final abstract kiss painted on my breast, and I slipped a door key
into his pant's pocket as he took a shower. He headed off, and I continued to
smile, both of us became predictable. Left feeling a bit light headed from the passion and the heat, and the consideration of what was still, yet to
come.
Leaning out my window, I remember letting the rain fall on my face...summer rain always feels intixicating against summer's heat.......
Leaning out my window, I remember letting the rain fall on my face...summer rain always feels intixicating against summer's heat.......
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