spiced honey

Hands find the hem of her silken shirt
Tugging higher
As it ripples over her head
His spiced honey waves
Curl around her slender fingers
Easing him to tip down
Teeth catch her lower lip
She opens to him
Tongues dance in fevered play

Slow with agony
He unleashes the button of her jeans
Heart thumping with each tick
Of her zipper
His clothes still gracing his beautiful skin
She leans into him
Breasts against pure cotton
Her hands seeking
Fingertip grazes inside the band of his briefs
No doubts

Tumbled as one
His body covering hers on the gleaming floor
Her hands clutch strong shoulder blades
Stuck out from the strain
Thighs welcome hips
Smothering all fear
The moment is here…

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Posted on October 18, 2010, in Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. A beautiful poem. I love the image of breasts against cotton and hands brushing against briefs. The tension before the release…

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