Fragrance in its lilting form
Slid around her neck
Prompting me to pout my lips
And give her lobe a peck,
Prompted me to stroke the down,
The soft down of her cheek
And soft caress the sensuousness,
Of which we seldom speak.
Murmuring endearments
Those gentle words un-glove
Conjuring warm moistness there
Sweet prelude to our love.
An urgency enfolds us now
to mesh together tight
Clasping lips together hard,
Both panting in delight.
Frantic in our urgent need
We spill impassioned, wet ascent
To acquiesce exhausted, both
Entangled now, hot and spent.

M.
7 March 2020
Taranaki NZ