Posted in happy, Romance

You.

 

It’s your eyes.

So beautiful, warm, dark pools filled with love that I drown in every time I look into them.

It’s your nose.

Small, cute and perfect. That I love rubbing mine against.

It’s your lips.

Pink, just the right size. I love kissing them, nibbling, licking them until you moan.

It’s your face.

All your features are perfect. Your wild hair that I love running my fingers through.

You might wear make-up to look uniform but I like seeing them naked.

Pure,

I’ve only told you a few times that your neck is a sight I can’t help gazing at.

You let me kiss it, nibble, whisper things to you as I lick it now and then and draw patterns when I seduce you or just cuddling.

Your bosom vies for my attention than all the rest of you.

I love squeezing your breasts during foreplay. Lick and suck them.

You like to touch my chest and comment on how wide it is and you prefer to lie on it than the pillow, but I love your more.

Your curves make you more beautiful naked                        .

I get to touch you, explore, kiss, lick.

My woman.

You love my abs and all my body but I love your body.

Sometimes you’ve worn short skirts and those stocking with a line at the back and driven me nuts with wonder.

I look up those legs and tamp down the urge to lift the shirt and see what’s under.

Dainty feet have played footsies under the table at dinners and driven my mind wild when you trail your toes up leg, up, up they go.

I love it when we snuggle and you tuck them under my thigh.

I love you. All of you.

Advertisements

Author:

Everyone's life view prism is different.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s