segunda-feira, 7 de janeiro de 2008

The Massage

A virgin ship sailing, I embarked on the journey of you,
Kneading fingers navigating my every position,

Heart racing with desire only a woman can understand,

Once she has met the power of a man,
One who can take her, wake the core of her erotic longing.

I lay face down at your command,
As you came around and sat legs spread,
Drawing my head towards your bare intentions,
Rubbing away my inhibitions.

One stroke at a time,
I rocked to your gripping rhythm,
Ever so innocently brushing your outstretched shaft
With my hair swept face.
Swaying between your thighs,
My sighs showing you appreciation,
I refrained from reaching out my tongue,
Aching to take you in,
Stopping to cherish that moment in time,
A moment of innocence between us,
One that will never be again.

by Shelley Cates Martin
photography by Adrian

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