that torrent of moisture, which floods the core,
as my slip slithers off with a whisper,
puddling around my feet on the floor,
standing before you like a sculpture,
trembling slightly beneath your hot gaze,
as it moves slowly downward from my face,
and my nakedness, does slowly appraise,
round curves of breasts, feel your eyes trace,
as they heave up and down from arousal,
and nipples crinkle and become erect,
for they seem to meet with your approval,
judging by the time you take to inspect.
before at last your gaze drops lower down,
and from hot molten flood, feel I will drown.

5 thoughts on “Gaze

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