With a wink,
you let the
robe slip from
your shoulders.
And I gape
at a sparkling
bead of water,
furrowing down
your seashore back.
On me you
slowly bend,
inching forward
on toes.
Your oval dunes,
moist in their
silk cups, hang
in my face.
I let my
hand inside
your thong.
In your dark
traingle, my
fingers tip over
a round wet
pearl and make
you pant
with parted lips.
You stick my
face in the
heat of your
breasts;
and urge.
I close my
eyes and come
crashing in
waves on your
naked shore.
© Sobhan
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