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Sep 2011
When your gaze scours my curves,
I feel naked, yet cloth pulls tightly.
You go beyond ******* me with your eyes.
Tequila has nothing on the way you look--
at me.

When you speak to me, only me,
The lead of words is turned into
The gold of excitement.
Every syllabe tickles my sensitive stimuli,
Every word seduces my thought,
Until all I can utter is--

Hot breath on my neck drenches
My senses, leaves me breathless.
And when I ask, "can I borrow yours?"
Your kiss rivals that of the french.
So hot, our lips are not our own.
Then your tongue turns into Columbus,
and explores.
Your touch is my master,
Your movement my release.

And when finally,
Liquid love makes my clothing
There is only one word on my lips--
Nyssa Elena Jacobsen
Written by
Nyssa Elena Jacobsen  Cornwall, England
(Cornwall, England)   
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