A perfect lover

A perfect lover knows her body
like a virtuoso violinist knows her instrument.
Her body is her instrument,
and when she plays,
she never plays a melody in the exact same way twice,
but always finds a new variation,
some new cadence or flavor which flows naturally
from her sense of pleasure.

Nothing feels forced,
nothing contrived,
no moment is wasted.

Her style might even look bland to an outsider,
but anyone who has felt her touch knows
that in that simplicity there is an infinite expanse
which you dive into like a crystal clear spring
which chills your body
and fills you with an electric energy.
Or else she envelops you with her warmth,
like hot wax, she pours over your skin.

She is the perfect dance partner,
leading and following with equal grace,
and when you move together
and close your eyes,
you cannot tell where your body ends
and hers begins.

Her smile is infectious,
her eyes burn like cinders,
her scent is intoxicating,
her skin is silk.

Her moans are sometimes light and delicate,
sometimes deep and guttural,
sometimes they ring out,
and sometimes they vibrate into the depths of her body,
but always express her truest feelings without restraint.

She knows just what she wants,
but is patient
She knows just what you want,
but keeps it just out of your reach.

She makes time stop,
and yet it always feels like it runs
a little too fast
in her presence.