Don't come closer to me
Just be there, by the leather chair
And be my audience
I wear nothing
Except a wicked smile
Swaying my hips
Sauntering towards you
I ignite your senses
But from a distance
I see your deliriousness
As your masculinity swells
From your decent layers
But not tonight, baby
You will be my audience
I trace myself, with my fingers
From my lips to my neck
From my breasts to my navel
And stop there
I spread my legs
By the edge of the bed
For you to see
How the flower blooms
Without your seed, also
Be my guest, tonight.
©LR
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