My eyes lose themselves in unruly cascades of raspberry brunette seduction just two shades lighter than the luminous orbs that are her eyes, setting off a jaw and cheekbone that make me weak at the knees, and my heart skips a beat, but she calls me to task
Checking the water temperature on my wrist I flood this sea of beauty and plant a kiss just where hair meets skin, a salty, sensuous feast for tongue, but she bids me stop
The fragrances tell exotic tales speaks of far away spices: jamsmine, ginger, nettles, hyacinth, headily mixing with her scent--may I stop now and carry her to the bed--may I ask?
Her scalp is electric, sending shivers up my arms--my fingers make love to her locks as, soaked with spice and foam, they flop
I rinse this passionate beauty and listen to the squeaking of clean hair, I close the flask, I wring her hair dry to the top, then gently carry her away to finish my thought.
About the Creator
Paul A. Merkley
Mental traveller. Idealist. Try to be low-key but sometimes hothead. Curious George. "Ardent desire is the squire of the heart." Love Tolkien, Cinephile. Awards ASCAP, Royal Society. Music as Brain Fitness: www.musicandmemoryjunction.com
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.