she's up on the
bathroom counter.
her head is tilted back.
lips slightly parted.
her back arched,
hands gripping the edge,
chest heaving,
heavily breathing,
my lips graze her collarbone.
leaving little bruises
down her neck.
making a trail down
her body.
my lips return to her lips.
my hands find their way to her waistline.
she and I are kissing
(the French would be proud)
my fingers delicately
touch her flower.
a moan escapes her lips
and into my mouth.
I gently rub her petals
until she starts to shake
she can't keep her mouth quiet.
her flower is dripping nectar
all down her stem
I smile and crouch down
to taste the nectar
oh, so sweet.