You stand before me, hair slick from your evening shower.
The long wet curls of your crown drip strings of dew over your torso.
And you stand before me.
I marvel at how the hems of your low-rise bikini accentuate the plumpness of your curves.
Your lips, fleshy and smirking.
Your eyes, lustful and teasing.
Your breasts, ample and blushing.
Your skin, aglow and inviting.
And I sit on the edge of comfort—in awe—wanting.
I want to kiss you.
I want to sit you in my lap, and I want to kiss you.
I want to kiss you for hours on end.
I want to feel your passion envelope me with your kiss.
I want to feel your beauty with your kiss.
Your sex with your kiss.
Your love with your kiss.
I want to feel you—with your kiss.
And I sit on the edge of comfort, in awe.
The fire, which burns from within you, is close now.
I feel its radiant warmth.
It attracts me.
It makes me unyielding.
You straddle me, enfolding me with passion.
The inhalation of our breaths attests to the bonding of our souls.
My precious, I have you on my lap, and I kiss you.
We sit on the edge of comfort—in awe—unmoving.
Our still union so intense, you tighten... and become heavy.
Our still union so intense, my essence... it pours.
The exhalation of our breaths attests to the fusion of our souls.
We lay at the edge of comfort, in love.
