Legs

Oh lord, woman…

I need to touch your legs. Desperately. With purpose. Now. Tonight.

Good grief, those legs… A woman's legs. Perfect in every way. From your ankles up your calves, your thighs, oh my god your hips…

You move me, from your head to your toes, but my god those legs…

Can I kiss them? Can I kiss every last square inch of skin on them? Can I stroke them with these hands that physically ache with the desire to touch them?

Will you use them to kneel above me so that my lips can venture along the insides of your thighs while my hands grasp your perfect ass and pull you towards me… closer… closer… closer…

Until it's not your legs my lips are exploring anymore?

Can I feel them… hear them move against my ears as you rock, pushing my head back into the pillow again… and again… and again… and again

until suddenly you still, just for a moment, your breath caught in your throat even as I happily find that I could no longer breathe if I tried, if I even wanted to… the calm before the storm, my body as ready for you as it has ever been…

And then can I feel those legs, those amazing objets d’art, those perfect pillars of absolutely pure womanhood… Can I feel them quiver and shake as I accept your body's offering, if it makes one, as the gift that it is?

Before you collapse onto me and kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me god please just kiss me, ⭐️. Kiss me as I enter you, kiss me as my own legs quiver, kiss me as my body gives you its own offering in return…

God, please, just kiss me, ⭐️. Kiss me and kiss me and kiss me and kiss me, just kiss me…

Oh, god. I love you, my love. Love you, love you, love you.

Please just kiss me. Kiss me, and let me touch those legs…

And I'll never ask anything of you, ever again.

Please.

Yours. Forever.
♒️