Lotion

She had asked me
To do this before,
And now tonight,
Yet again.

Out of the shower,
She stood before me
Exposed to my eyes…
Unaware of her sexiness.

The cold dry air
Of winter,
Had drawn the moisture
From her skin,
And she longed for relief.

All of her body was reached
By her hands
Moisturizer quenching that
Dryness…

All but her back,
And that’s where
She needed my help.

So,
There she stood,
Seductive in her nakedness,
Turning away from me,

Lifting the waves of her
Rich,
Dark curl,
Exposing her sculpted back…

Lotion,
Now in my hands,
Warming,
To complement
Her own heat.

Then,
I slowly,
And gently
Placed my palms on her shoulders,
And in doing so,
Heard her sigh.

Seconds were hours
As I brought my hands
To the center of her back,
Just under her cradled mane.

Luxurious,
Smooth,
Rich…

As that lotion moved
From my skin
To hers…

Drinking,
Deeply,
From my hands.

In doing so,
It was as if
I could feel each muscle fiber
Woven together,
Shaping her body.

And I closed my eyes,
Wanting only to see
With my mind,
As my fingers provided
Her the relief
She needed
And wanted,
So desperately.

Nearing the end
Of the journey,
Gifting the succulence
Of softness,
My hands,
Now at the small of
Her back,
Moved outward,
Having finished…
And rested on her hips…

As did my mind.

And with one last sigh,
She exhaled deeply…

Completed,
Warm,
Soft.

And then turned…

To me…

Needing something more.

 

 

© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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