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Apr 2017
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.
Pineapples
Written by
Pineapples  Gloucester
(Gloucester)   
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