Waiting in the wings, on the threshold, on the verge of the utterance of those three little words in the native tongue of his darkly compelling lust, in the accented rumble that brings me to my knees and strips me bare effortlessly, completely.
But I linger out of view, sliding softly into the light only once he parts his lips to speak, to etch into the ether his arrival, to transform the biting chill of the autumnal breeze with the warmth of his breath, with his musk and his cologne, with the sensual and carnal promises that live in his touch and his kiss, in the hard and ravenous heat between his legs, in the primal need that screams on his skin, in the yearning that tempts me back to him, that arches my back, melts my sweet cunt, marks my body with his possession, his homecoming.
She will entice you with her sin and sensuality, lure you into her velvet decadence, arouse the noir goddess that sighs hotly in your depths.
She will take you by the hand and caress your softness, run her lips along your skin and bare your strength. She will leave you aching and glistening, trembling and breathless with need, anticipation, a passion and a darkness that takes you, body and soul, to the very carnal edge.
She will deliver all you can dream and imagine, all you dare to crave, all time and splendour, love and lust and nurture, 365 wondrous nights and days.
Wishing you all a blissful, prosperous and seductively provocative 2015