Eyes open, and the ceiling stares back
I am on my back
With my arms pulled back

And my feet,
Moving at all, defeat
Fragrance of honeyed jasmine and heat

She is near
I do not hear
Her approach
Or the blindfold
Encroach

I gasp and I am all bare skin and wet, needful mouth,
Seeing black, sense her moving
Body warmth getting closer
Climbing over but not on
Scent sharp and fresh and hot
Above my lips as she

Lowers

A finger but no,
This is too small and round and hard,
I pull up to suckle
But am pulled back by buckles
And it is gone.
Until she returns when she

Lowers

Again and the tip
Of my tongue tastes a nip
But is gone.

Then later shadows,
Closeness,
And a scent so sacred
Feet placed by my racing head
And she slows as she

Lowers

Lowers

Slower...

My mouth open, tongue begging, unfurled,
I wait to be lost in the moment.
But she has all the time
In the world.

This is so nice. It reminds me of a game he and I would play...
I have not played that game in a long time. It is difficult to find someone who likes to play what I do.

Jez, You have a pretty handy key at unlocking memories.

Enjoy your writes