The bond.
The tightness.
I touch the number one.
The unforgetting.
The initial clumsiness.
I touch the number 3
The you.
The me.
The small talk of weather,
what makes me a man,
and you a Godess.
I touch the number five.
The dripping euphoria of playful intimate chatter.
The moment I saw those curvy hips swaying to song I hold dear.
The secured hours together I only deliciously imagined your ******* captive by my hands, my mouth wantingly, lustfully agape for your hardened *******.
The days I seduced ALL of you , your lips quivering... climatically speechless....
I touch the number one.

And ohhh...

That look in your eyes.
The look of those eyes giving in to passion, falling off to every angle, back of the head , catatonic.
The moment you realize this feels a lot like paradise and your world seems a bit like a perfectly fitting glove...., a bit in your face.......you breathe deep and know the hands that now sculpt and massage every curve of your aching wanting body wish to make you quiver till the first of never.
I touch the number one.
The chaos is lived within a ******.
The ****** you and I and the nosy neighbors for that matter, will not soon forget.
I touch the number one again and again and again.
The neighbors open their windows further...