Posed picture,
say cheese.

Sitting there, all debonair,
a winning smile on her face,
I long to see and feel her
wrapped up in silk and lace.

Soft red hair, curled
and blowing in the wind,
I'm not sure how this started,
but I know where it will end.

All ******* in sheets,
clothes strewed across the floor,
a trail of them here and there
starting at the door.

Bruised lips from passions kisses,
places pink from kneading hands,
out of breath and fully spent
from our need and our demands.