Smoke fills the air, the sweet doobie scent of high times and my fingers raising rainbows as they travel across your naked skin. Apricot nippled ******* brush my lips with a music intoxicatingly ****** and you drip sexuality all over me. A love leaving me spin in wildly exotic, red lacy visions of your mescaline funk and lips on mine driving me drunk with allusions of your quivering release- the l o n g s l o w version.
Oh no, “I don’t want a cure for this.” As Diana says, “Don’t call the doctor.” I just need more tokes on this sweet, sweet love.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 2.19.16
..the song is once again Diana Ross' "Love Hangover" https://youtu.be/niEYaeYa72U
Some years ago now, poets at another web site did this "******/sensual tastefully done poetry every Friday night. Sometimes collaborating and it was great fun... well I was thinking about this after a friend asked about "what kind of trouble do you like to get in"? So, here is some "trouble for you?? Thanks for the idea... ;0) "No cure, no remedy, don't call the doctor!!"