At the start,
there is only a whisper.
A touch, soft and light,
so only barely there
restless
never lingering
a ripple of longing.
And you, so still,
only the rise of invisible hairs aching to meet my palms connects us.
Until, finally, irresistibly,
fingers find thighs and waist,
slide so easy round the curves of breasts and belly,
trace ears and neck.
Following so close so there is scarce a gap
between the touch and kiss,
lips whisper their way
telling with touch
the warm hollow of the neck
the point of a nipple.
Until, from instep to crown,
your body tingles,
vibrates,
thrums.
From gentle touch
and light caress,
I play more strongly, the deep muscles of your back,
connect the valley of your spine,
explore the shape of shoulder blades,
work along your scalp,
and then flow, in a rush back down,
to the source
to where your hips flare out in gracious curves,
along the backs of thighs and calves
awakening each limb
greeting each secret curve and dip.
But then,
insistent tongue
and seeking lips
find your mouth
your neck
your breasts
feel the flush of desire glow
just there, beneath the skin.
So now, when the tip of my tongue
parts your reaching thighs and slips
between the moistened lips there
slides in and deeper
now, deeper still,
as hands still restless roam,
our eyes meet.
The spark of passion crosses back and forth between us
like a flame we have created and cradled close.
Lighting us, and we follow,
heedless of the world now
knowing only sigh and touch
and sliding warmth and hold so close
pulling back and away only to wonder
before slipping once again
Me into you,
and you to me.
