Tangerine and honey drip in equal measure on the finely woven silk that lightly covers you.

As my tongue takes its pleasure I can barely discern where the silk stops and your skin begins.

The sound of your sighs and a rise in temperature tells me I've found a sweet spot.

A soft spot, goose flesh and shivers, not just yours but my own.

Had I known such joys could awaken, I would have mistakenly spilled the honey long ago.