All I need is your gentleness. Caress my warm soft breasts and watch the nipples harden. But do not touch. Not yet. Hold your lips to my forehead. Kiss me. Make sure your breath is sweet. Trail your fingers up and down my thighs. Then cup me. Do not mistake my cry for hunger. I have stuff to sort out. Wetness comes without my knowledge. Dip your fingers there and wonder. Once more my body betrays me. I am not wild for sex. That is your fantasy. For now I want your touch. Your understanding. Your love. Have I told you yet?
Mandy Edwards (c) 2017