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Erotic
When he touched her she tingled from Head to toe, When she touched him he Pulled her to him causing her to squeal With excitement …
Thunder rolled deafeningly across a Billowing unstable sky, rain struck the Windows with rich intent, and a high Wind tore into nearby trees heavy in Summer leaf, a hot day had given way To an electrified sleepless night, a Scintillating canopy of super-charged Energy, weighty in ozone and lusting To break loose upon the darkened Earth below,
In the bathroom, a sliding shower door Faithfully reflected a tumultuous crash Of rapidly heated air directly overhead, An ear-shattering voice from above that Spoke volumes as to the power of nature Over man, and on that point, both the Storm outside and the present occupant Of the shower were as one.
Wet steps tip-toed over twinkling black Marble to greet deep luxurious carpet In a gallery of wealth. A well-to-do Young woman with the world at her Feet suddenly caught herself unawares, Prompted by an incautious spirit of Devil-may-care, spinning round out of Sheer joy and exuberance, a dizzying Carousel that gave flight to her bathrobe Revealing a glistening blur of a body, A vivacious work of art, ready for love, Ready for anything.
Here was a woman who knew her worth, And knew too how to capitalise on every Luscious inch of her curvaceous festival For the eye, the hand, and the heart. She Drew great enjoyment from nakedness, A state she exploited to the nth degree in Dresses that sought to hide nothing, in Lingerie that one might say barely existed. A true daughter of Hera, Queen of the Gods, Her body was all she needed to draw the Eye, to fix the focus, to raise the Temperature.
Low-light and the trappings of wealth, The seeds of seduction, sown with Sumptuous aplomb in the sure and Certain knowledge that in the hours to come everything would be erect And correct. For now though, dressing Could wait, time to enjoy the moment, To pleasure oneself, to do as she likes In the fanciful corridors of personal Excess. Manicured fingers, an outline Of lust, waiting to be savoured, waiting To be touched.
Buildings, places, décor, all have their Role to play in the art of sensation, and Thus, a long sash window presented the Perfect opportunity for a lady to parade, To put the world aside and dwell entirely On herself. A stunning reflection, a spirit Of seduction, a temptress, an enchantress, A fountain of life, the light and the dark Side of love.
Blushing glass and candlelight, steamy Radiance swaying gracefully from side To side, tempting the Devil to join hands, To brush, to touch, to feel. A feminine Glow of unmistakable fulfilment, hot, Bubbling, quickly rising to boiling point, Inside in turmoil, skinside on heat. Everywhere a secret revealed, nowhere Beyond bounds. Love indiscreet, tales Told, deepest desires unspoken. unsaid, Unheard, but always in the forefront of The mind, when a guiding hand is all A girl may need to voice love without Uttering a word.
She stood for a while, walked to a chair, Sat down and crossing her legs reached For a pair of stockings still secure in their Shiny cellophane wrapper. A moment of Uncertainty as to which dress to choose For the night ahead. Fact was it didn’t Matter much which dress she chose, any Dress in her well-stocked wardrobe would, She knew perfectly well, fit perfectly, and Perfectly suit any conceivable occasion.
She liked to play with her wardrobe, in And out of silk after silk, satin after satin, Cotton after cotton, halter neck, low-cut, Defiantly plunging, peek-a-Boo ... and The final decision? A touch of flagrant French chic, Cervin fully fashioned Seamed stockings paired with Christian Louboutin six-inch heels. ‘Perfect’, and Only just in time too, for there, a distant Chime echoing along the gallery, her Date for the night had arrived, and you Know how first impressions count.
© Joseph G Dawson
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