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The Tender Rubdown

Oh yes, my love  
Massaging my feet feels divine, the tingling sensations ordained from above    
A soft kiss to the top of my toes    
Within the luster of your beguiling charms raptures for us always console    
    
Mm... hum.. your palms, kneading the back of my thighs real deep    
Head rested on my folded arms, the sweetest realization to put me to sleep    
The back of your hand, sluggishly dragging down my skin    
Parting my inner thighs, whetting your fingers, before they find a way in      
     
The breath intake, gently biting down on my button lip    
Oh, big daddy, yes.. jiggling them harder... mm, while I gyrate, as your finger shifts    
Oh yes, that does feels so good on baby, yes, yes    
Tired but I can still appreciate you when you make, my mind, my heart, melt    
     
Wait.. where are you going baby, oh you sliding backwards off the bed, mm... getting down on your knees      
If I forget to tell you, thank you and please    
I am at the mercy of your lustful oral fetish, my muscles too ore from running miles, training for me to do nothing but comply    
Exhaling, closing my eyes    
     
Your hot breaths fanning my buttocks, love bites, a light smack, then savoring the creamy flavor of this sweetened peach pie    
Oh God, your drools, the slurping of my hioneycomb juices, down your chin, you take my mind past the sky    
Tonight, this runner needs tender loving care    
Your fingers, in the heat of passion, your wrist encased by my braided hair    
     
Oh... if there is a bottle, I need to cap this bliss    
Caresses under your dominance, I refuse to miss    
Oh yes, I feel so much better    
Let me turn on my back, and you can see just how much wetter    
Come here.. lean your face in and kiss me      
Let me lick that butter rum spice off your lips, just a little tease    
     
And thank you baby    
What, are you serious... You even ran a hot bath for this lady    
You are a keeper  
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published
Author's Note
I think Paris smells not just sweet but melancholy and curious, sometimes sad but always enticing and seductive. She's a city for the all senses, for artists and writers and musicians and dreamers, for fantasies, for long walks and wine and lovers and, yes, for mysteries.

M. J. Rose

And I so miss France so much, a place I resided that just inhaling the air, lets you know you have lived. and enjoy the beautiful essence of living for the moment, while sitting back and glimpsing in the moment.
Mon cœur appartiendra toujours à l’amour de la France, toujou
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