|Blogs > rm_Sallypus > Sally's Soliloquies|
You arrive as casual as a cat,
pad in, wrap me in those paws,
drink my eyes for just an instant,
and a moment later
the pudding bubbles and boils,
and your hands
are teasing provocation,
making me shiver
for the next touch.
Don't close your eyes, you warn,
or I'll stop.
When every nerve is singing sotto soprano
I can't feel it all and look at you
looking like I am your next meal,
and you came hungry.
More reflex then defence,
the eyes close...and you lay a hand behind my neck,
still me to your touch,
and mutter "this I will have of you."
till I am butter on your fingers,
and I want to look anywhere
but in your eyes,
as I feel you searching,
oh the fingers,
readying me again for tasting,
as if there was a spice
buried in me you simply must have.
Lying me back til I am prone,
you smile into my eyes,
part the soft thighs,
and something shifts inside.
all the while burning for you
trying not to sing those low notes,
you love so well...
but I always find myself singing
when your hands sketch this music
so mayhap I will...
7/23/2005 5:05 pm
Each time I come here I find myself needing a breather|