Wednesday, March 16, 2005
She danced over me in not so casual slacks.
The room had lost its form. She moved above me in perfect rhythm. A rainbowed goddess, teasing me with simple motions of arms, legs and hips, she seduced me from above.
She curled her lips in the most dangerous of smiles. “milk and honey, do you want to love me? she sang, her eyes playfully melting me to pulp.
She knelt down to me, holding herself an inch away. I burnt with locked desire. The sweet torture, of her skin, her lips, the tiny black top lining her curves, lining my imagination with what was not revealed.
I have never wanted more.
She danced. Like Grace and the Devil she danced. As if she were desire itself. Her slim body, that perfect body that makes me think of nothing else, gliding effortlessly through life's ether, marking its melody to the air. Over me, around me, through me. All the while her seductive smile daring me to lose control.
Oh how I wanted to join her. But I was paralyzed. Too mesmerized to move. You see, you can't just join in with a siren. They will only swim away.
And so I could only lay in awe, enjoying her generosity, and hoping that it would never end.
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