Skin like fresh landing snow,
So naturally pure and never disturbed.
Faint ruby red lips neatly creased in all the right places,
They glisten in the dark,
Like Vegas from a plane window.
Finger tips gently caress the back of my neck with a touch as cold as London.
The freckles on your face tell a story of beauty,
Like a treasure map that I want to explore.
Flowing hair to the top of your buttocks, so much to get lost in with every strand perfectly in place,
Hiding this delicate and sensitive neck I want to taste.
Am I in a dream or a trance.
I'm fixated yet fascinated looking into those big swimming pools of chocolate, so deep and captivating, I am scared and also teased by what lies behind those brown eyes.