Menu

​Wet, sticky dripping with anticipation 

Of the offer of new  sensation.  

My hands won’t even need to touch you.

 My breath will not grace your thighs.

You’ll be wet from the look in my eyes. 

 It’s then you’ll realize to me your body  is an appetizer, your heart is the feast 

And baby, I’m a beast.

~S.R. Taylor ~

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Menu

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s