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Click hereHis tongue making lazy circles
Her breathing rises with
The tightening of
The tip it teases...
His hot breath upon
The warm flesh of
Her sensitive
Mounds...
Fingers teasing
The little rising bud,
She hides in her flower,
Now coated with dew,
Which he bends to taste...
Her body beginning a dance
That she knows will continue, until,
He brings her to that point where she,
Will make a final arabesque, a jette, which
Will end in a loving embrace as the
Intensities fade leaving a warm
Memory of what she just
Allowed him to do
And see and
Remember.