by Jessi

She paints her lips.
She sits in front of the mirror
She sits and paints those pretty lips that glisten with wetness.
Pouting as she corrupts her innocence.
Burgundy, red wine spilt on white china.
Her fervent cheeks flushed with passion.
Her lover has come to see her.
Her beloved has come to take her away.

Her eyes like two pools of warm burnished copper hide beneath bashful eyelashes.
She hides her desire for him, or so she thinks.
Her breath is fast as she smells him.
The scent is too well-known.
She smells his want on her neck.
She feels his carnal need calling to her.
Her body responds, her senses turn tender to her own sexual desire.
Her very own body arouses to the hunger of his flesh.
Her mind is his playground.
He plays with her fantasies.
Toys with her sexual deprivation.
Her virgin desire.
He knows how much she wants him.
She feeds his urge as she feeds her own.
Her face glistens with perspiration as she takes him into her.
Her hands stroke against him as they meet beat to beat.
She needs to feel him inside her.
She needs to feel his urgent want.
The fire burns inside her, almost consuming her.
Her body shakes in pleasure, she moans her pure delight.
She's waited for this night when she can truly say she loves him.
She wants to say she loves him by the soft glow of candle light.

Burgundy, red wine spilt on white china.
She paints her lips.
So divine.


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