Had this in draft for awhile, Steph's photo inspired me to post it...

Gently stroking, my fingers danced patterns across the gently muscled expanse of skin, from the top of the low riding lace line that marked her thong to the swell perfectly rising below her breasts, my fingers played a slow game of chase, my mouth showering small kisses across her tummy in a “cat and mouse” game with my fingers, that occasionally dipped to stroke along thighs and over hips. The gentle rise and fall and the pressing, arching of back as my mouth would dip closer to the lace…the begging heave of breasts as I teased along the underside, only to turn south to play across the muscled expanse before me. Following the curves as hips flare into abdomen and rise gently over ribs, and down the center, muscles tense as quiet gasps tell me she is getting tired of this kind of play, slow kisses, gentle bites and trailing fingers tracing, playing, leading a game…whether lying in bed or kneeling before a woman, kissing the tanned soft skin, playing over an area that holds all that would grow with the creation of life…gently dipping following the muscle line down towards her lace covered center, gentle kisses trailing towards her rising hips and leading to where she is begging to be kissed.

There is something strangely tantalizing about the midriff of a woman, something that hints at choice and offers each man his Rubicon, does one head south, or continue to play in the upper reaches, there is something very erotic about current fashions, the midriff bare, that means as you hold her close, deep in embrace, mouths entwined, your hands are free to play along the expanse of muscle, to trace patterns on her hips and gently dance along the line that her clothes create.

To kiss along such a line is doubly so.

Lectiones Sacrae Ex Libris Indiana 06:00