Touch
Soft strokes feather against the canvass of your desires
Following the curves of my body, your hands covet my nakedness
Swaying and caressing, exploring my feminine form
Your heated touch lingers as it slips across the silken cloth of my soul
I cannot conceal the tremors that erupt, the prickled bumps a witness to your effect
Or the warming that travels from the tips of my breast to the base of my spine, as your mouth consumes me
Relentless in its pursuit, your breath whispers the need to possess me
My body screams to be taken; guttural moans murmur the invitation
My will weakens, and I succumb to your touch
I think you are in anticipation of Outlander.
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