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.