Too much synchronicity...
I feel you.
Your touch, your taste, your kiss, your skin.
Knocking me is the way to go, just put our lips together, and blow.
Baby, just breathe on me.
Blow on my soft flesh and kiss.
Lubriciously, lusciously, lustfully.
Breathe on my taste, my touch, my sin.
We don't even need to be physical, tonight, my senses don't make sense at all.
Our imaginations...
Take it in, let it out...
Baby, just breath on me.
Seductively, sensually, sexually.
We don't even need to touch, just breathe.
Baby.... **** yeah.
(Moans)
Feel my sin as it's desire that I unleash.
Magnitude, corresponding with your aching thought of impure lustful intention.
Intention, feel me grasp onto your every nerve with my non-physical touch.
Caress me, hold me, baby, don't even **** me, just breathe onto my neck, my shoulder, my breast, my stomach, my *****, my thigh, my legs, my ***.
Can you feel it?
As I mind *******, it's that tingling sensation I release.
Aaaaaaah, baby, stop, and just breathe.