Her perfume, sweet and subtle.
My head follows my gaze. In front of me, she appears. Framed by wavy hair, eyes so deep, beauty so genuine, my heart, for a moment, ceases beating, then beats much too fast.
More than a decade, almost two, it has been.
She speaks, a choir of angels fills the air.
Across the room she glides. The hypnotic sway of her hips controls me. Over her shoulder, a glance is an invitation.
The staircase, she climbs. The uneven gait, to her walk, gives a new rhythm. Her sashay beckons me to follow.
Half way into our ascent, overwhelmed am I. I turn her to face me. Our mouths meet. Inhale her, I do. I imbibe, immediate intoxication, under her spell, again, I fall.
To her legs, my hands explore. Permission I seek, I ask, I am given. Moistness allows unimpeded entry. With feverish haste, within her, my finger explores.
One, then two, finds entry. Quickly, I lower my head. The taste — my God, the taste. The finest honey could not be so satisfying, the darkest chocolate so rich, nor the most expensive wine so pleasing — the true nectar of the Gods is this.
Wider, her body opens. Her scent, overpowering. Faster, I move my hands. Panting passion is expressed in salacious screams.
“Take me!” she demands.
I want to submit to her, but our enemies are time and location. I want to, so desperately I desire to again be within. Hopefully, one day I will. Today, I am satisfied delivering.
From her, I take my fingers. Coated with her, I lift to her mouth. From my fingers, she tastes. Within the confines of paradise, I replace them. As I take from within, my fingers glisten. I sample ambrosia.
I need to have her.
I must feel her around me.
Never, by only giving, have I been so satisfied. Her body is meant for pleasure. Her body is meant for lust. Her very being is meant for unimaginable sin.
That night I sleep. Visions of her flawless, curvaceous body dance in my head – incredible bosom, nipples so tantalizing, her perfect patch of well-trimmed hair – inviting. Her scent, her taste, her sound. Each perfectly memorized, perfectly etched. Each in the present as they were in the past.