Making Love

Paints a picture of a woman's view of loving

Making Love

The touch of your lips feather light
Fuels the fire of my delight
As deep within flames ignite
The caress of your fingertips on mine
Sends a fiery chill down my spine
Upon my breast you see the sign

Your tongue as it travels here and there
Brings on a shiver that banishes care
As together we venture who knows where
The barest whisper, a gentle tease
Raising a tingle, lower please
Seeking the center I open my knees

The waves roll onward as we crest
Your mouth surrounds my right breast
My love you know what I like best
Filled with a languid, lassitude
The fires subside become subdued
An ember remains to kindle anew

Deborah T