“Kiss me.”
“Where?”
“Here and here, please… oh, and then here.”
“Okay.”
Then pushing aside the bedclothes, you whisper, “And here, of course.”
“Oh yes, of course,” I reply.
“Shall I begin?”
You giggle.
I begin.
Torrential rain lashes the windows as my lips possess your warm flesh.
You suddenly take my hand and place it between your legs.
“Kiss me here, please… now.”
Time stands still. I am intoxicated by your fragrance.
Afterwards, you roll onto your tummy and take my hand once again.
You guide my fingers between your cheeks and say, “This afternoon, please kiss me here.”
