My tongue, when placed so delicately here,
Could trace the lines of each muscle on your body.
It would gladly seek out the places dear to you
And make you quiver, wretch and squeel.
It would effortlessly swim in your mouth,
Flooding it with a sweet love syrum.
And look how well it fits between your thighs.
Tracing the line up such delicate skin
And hardening your already stiffened flesh.
Could you resist it's call as I trace your lips,
And probe between those lips so gently?
Should you feel the wet touch just behind your ear
Could you in all honesty, not give me what I want?
Would you not surrender if I painted your spine
And thusly your soul with the tip of my tongue?
And would you crave the taste of my tongue
Long after I have pulled it away from you?
Should I call you on the phone and form words such as
"Longing...lover...sex...and lust" with my tongue,
Could you reply with anything other than...
"Yes...yes....yes...and yes?"
Come let my tongue tickle your senses
And let it sense your ticklish spots.
Let me lick and caress your body with my oh so eager
Ready and willing, hungry and lusting tongue.

wow, there's a lot happening here. great work, really stimulating.

thanks Hey Hey.

misty..

Wow!!!!
I so need a nice, cool shower right now.
Wonderful poem Misty. If this doesn't stimulate the senses, then I'd call that person a hearse, because they are dead!!
Michelle

my applause to you michelle thanks..

misty..

you might call them a he arse, but i'd call them a she arse - a much nicer arse. just kidding Michelle.

Truly exquisite, Misty; profoundly sensual in the most real and earnest way: a call of--and to--love.

You have a gift, and I celebrate it, dear fellow poet.

Love,

+Stevie

Is that British humor, Hey Hey?
Gotta remember--I'm a simple country gal.
Just kidding myself.
Michelle