A poem 2 make a girl horny

As soft as breath upon the air, The wake of passing wings in flight,Your fingers stroke my skin.Across the rise of shoulder,Along the curve of breast,Between the valleys of my ribs With grace they gently wander.Random is the path they choose,With lightest, sweetest touch,Ribbons of fire the length of flesh.Irrevocably, so exquisitely,Continuing their downward trend As with intent, your fingers heighten The force of shared desire.
Updated on Friday, February 03 2012 at 05:23PM GMT
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