twosome

Too long has passed since last my words traveled along your thoughts raising shivers of pleasure in your mind. For too long I allowed your lust to sleep and now I wonder if my rusty charms still work their magic on your flesh. I therefore slowly let the lacy shawl fall from my shoulders – first time I ever did that your eyes licked greedy their white curves, resting for one heavy second right there, where they embrace the base of my neck, and I knew that was where you'd always start to breathe me. I now close my eyes and remember the shadow of your gaze gliding leisurely over my body, waiting for the laces of my corset to reveal more and more of it, as if that corset was a seashell too frailly protecting the pearl inside. Don't get me wrong – I always knew I was more of a moonstone, gently sheltering within me your sparkling. That's why the "seashell" betrayed so easily its "treasure" at your touch. My iris begs for light, it's cold behind the eyelids, so I open them slowly. Your gaze is now at the tip of my toes, and your lashes tremble impatiently – those silk stockings were always your weakness, you always said that silk was the only thing coming close to the softness of my skin and I always believed you. Otherwise why the ritual of your fingertips approaching almost religiously my legs, moving tenderly upwards, ankle, crus, knee, thigh, turning feverish when reaching the garter and taking that off? You still have that look in your eyes, so I guess nothing changed, you'd still chart my body and I'd still hold my breath, paying attention to each slight tremor of your fingers. Besides, it's always the foreplay that matters most, that game of search and tease, of experiencing levels of pressure and refraining – kiss me here, touch me there, wait for my mercury to rise while beginning to hate the texture of clothes...of YOUR clothes...watch in candle light how your kisses evaporate from my nipples and how my need for oxygen increases because I want to burn, I want to BURN! And by the time when the orgasm will leave us both breathless and amazed, there will be diamonds of sweet sweat shining their cooling flames all over the place...



Poetry by Lilly Negoi
Read 637 times
Written on 2013-01-06 at 17:19

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countryfog
. . . the difference between sensuous and merely sexual, how passion is a passage both into and out of one's self and not just the brief act at the end, intimacy that touches all the senses, and no less the mind than the heart.
2013-01-07



Seems like a meeting of nostalgia, love, and sexuality. Seems like something we all crave at times. The nostalgia makes it that much more intimate, and doubtful.
2013-01-06