catch your breath…

Honeyed alabaster.

Flawless skin, smooth like silk.  No, like air.  She moves across the room and you can’t take your eyes off her.  A freckle.  A cocktail dress clings to the sides of her small, generous curves; her breasts slightly rambunctious and buoyant.  The emerald-green bounces light into her sweet, brown eyes. The waves and coils of her hair catch your breath like a spider’s web.

Bewitched.

I slip between you: softly, hungrily licking and lifting the creamy sauce from her slick, velvety creases.

Our cries – melodic in their intensity, harmonized in their passion – crescendo.

Succubus.

– Lola Moi –