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Click hereAlmost like a breeze
At first her fingers
Much like a breath
Lightly touching
All the sensitive spots
Sliding, gliding, riding
Along, upon, into...
Up and down,
Back and forth,
Soft skin, hard berries,
Warm wet pool where she
Pauses playfully a while then
Becoming more breathless
With each new stroke
In those quivering
Familiar places
Until at least
The arch,
The gasp,
The cry,
The soft descent into
A repose resting in
A pool of pleasure
Which leaves her wet,
Breathing more and more slowly,
And wishing only that
Her lover
Could have shared this moment,
And yet, it WAS so good alone...
Wasn't it?