You pressed your lips
Against my lipstick mark on the glass;
Like the kiss,
We had been dropping hints.
I gingerly fingered my collarbone,
Ready to be your own;
Touching where I'd most moan,
Imagining your fingers trace.
Boldly, I walked into the room,
Wanting to take you by storm;
Only to see your unclothed form,
Moving between her bosom.
Copyright © thearcticstar 2016
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