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stratton-wayne-stclairPoems
In the lazy late afternoon light when everything seems dreamlike she comes to me. Smiling coyly she undoes a clasp, her robe slips off the shoulder. I watch the fabric water like flow over her body. Hanging on her ******* heavy with the ripeness of youth, it pauses then slips over her ***** brown ******* One bouncing, then the other. Following her curves, past the hollow of her navel... exposing her crowning glory, her woman's furry triangle so warm and moist and welcoming. Like an admiring hand, the falling cloth traces the wonderful curve of her *** and down her long, smooth legs to pool languidly at her feet. She undoes her dark hair shakes her head and lets it fall. In all her glory she stands before me eyeing me hungrily... No seducer but prey am I.
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 9:22 AM UTC
Late Afternoon Light
In the lazy late afternoon light when everything seems dreamlike she comes to me. Smiling coyly she undoes a clasp, her robe slips off the shoulder. I watch the fabric water like flow over her body. Hanging on her ******* heavy with the ripeness of youth, it pauses then slips over her ***** brown ******* One bouncing, then the other. Following her curves, past the hollow of her navel... exposing her crowning glory, her woman's furry triangle so warm and moist and welcoming. Like an admiring hand, the falling cloth traces the wonderful curve of her *** and down her long, smooth legs to pool languidly at her feet. She undoes her dark hair shakes her head and lets it fall. In all her glory she stands before me eyeing me hungrily... No seducer but prey am I.
This is my take on Ovid's Amores 1.5
Written by
stratton-wayne-stclair
64/M/American
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 9:22 AM UTC
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