Fingers running thru fallow fields,
Teasing at sweet nectar
Untouched and e'er
O'erlooked desires.
Probing soft and dainty
Silken folds, tender
To eye and touch.
Sweet alabaster thighs
Nestled on shoulders
Straining with want and need;
Fingertips fluttering like
Butterflies against buttressed
Gates not yet breached.
And then,
With lamenting cry for those
Times when fluent mastery
Of cunning skills
Were not employed,
Her mouth stretched wide
As I impart
That most wondrous
Intimate kiss.