Fingertip touches

letting the electricity flow…like bristle points of snowflakes against your skin. 

that tingle-ey…can’t sit still in your seat wiggles.
sending shivers up through your body….
right into that place that says,, delight…
Then a whispered groan escapes your mouth..
Just as the fingertip touches begin again,
and you electrify...



slip away…

He has, like me, a sense of smell.

I let him inhale me,

then I slip away.

― Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: 


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