Strokes

I have listened to your sighs.
Paid close attention to the motion of your hips.
My gifts are of the purest intent. Pleasure supreme. Unmatched.
Relentless in my affections, in my expressions of ecstasy.
You remember. Wanting already my caresses.
You press yourself towards my lips..
gently, raised, pushing against. Desire to be. Stroked.
Eager for my. Mouth.
Patience..
Patience as I travel down your body.
My pilgrimage to your Mecca.
I am like the sunrise; I will not be rushed.
Kiss. Slowly, softly like a single drop of rain.
Kiss. Slowly, lingering like wet dew on a flower.
Single kiss. And another.
I wander down your body with a thousand traces of my lips.
A thousands places to explore before I worship your prize.
My tongue. Gentle laps around your navel,
single, sublime. Strokes.
Along your thighs,
Down your pale calves,
Kisses around your ankles..
I will not be rushed.
Come closer. I come closer.
Up your legs, in circles.
Closer.
To your hips. My lips.
Closer.
These stokes.. drawing you toward the light.
The devine experience.
Closer. Still.
tracing. Following your sacred curves with soft wet kisses.
Undoing every stone in your mind.
Loosing your wild pony energy.. Stampede.
Finally..
Here I am. Close your eyes. Yes. Here I am.
Oh god yes. Here. I am.
Let my mouth finally find you.
Pressing firm against your flesh. Tease you still.
Warm bath. Massage. Strokes.
I feel the rest of your body melt away.
I feel you shudder beneath my lips.
Kiss.
Lick.
My tongue savors each taste.
Jasmine. Melting sapphires.
Strokes the walls of your temple.
Like a storm that does not cease.
Like waves to the warm beaches..
constant. relentless.
Here. still there are a thousand ways to seduce you.
To undo you.
I am yours until the night breaks.
Until you break.
I will not be rushed..
Strokes.
Licks.
Kisses.




Andrew Tipton