a yearning framed in a look, not a word that come between….
my tongue slides over my lower lip moistening the dryness of anticipation……
more and more I felt my hands slipping under my skirt to gently caress my own thighs feeling your hands there, here…
softly teasing, I’m smiling, smiling, placing my hand to the side of your cheek and guiding you to my mouth, my legs parted, both lips parted, slipping my hands into my clothing,
find their way through my fine hairs,
I shiver, our lips meet, my hand, your hand, placed on my sweet warmth,
a kiss more insistent,
warmth racing between us, pulling you down on top of me, our hands under my skirt, claiming my bare skin, our tongues touch, held….
my hand slips along your hips, over your buttocks, fingers knead and need, fingers, yours slip inside me….
my tongue pressed to yours, a flood of overwhelming desires all at once, drowned in their rush to surface gasping for air hungrily, wanting, your fingers part me, mine implore you….. eyes plead, doubt flees, leaving you and me….
© 2018 Emmaleela