You whisper that anticipation is everything,
you can sense the intensity already...

I can feel your words race across my skin,
like a faint but palpable wind,
summer's final traces of heat,
a final secret given to me.

Our words are just the catalyst, 
elements stirring electricity,
a complex intangible storm,
that is always about connection.

The body soon follows.

Hands roaming along your back,
traveling smooth soft planes,
kisses bloom on our craned necks,
your arms embrace tighter as if 
trying to imprint us into one,
pressed to the desire that now surges,
helplessly swells below when sensing 
the heat that rises in you.

I can hear the rivers rushing,
the endless restless thundering
from within your caged heart,
pleading to finally be known,
to just be understood.

You whisper that anticipation is everything,
you sense the unfathomable need already...

Our words are just the first flash,
the stillness before lightning strikes
electrifies our weathered veins
and fills your eyes with a new glow.

I can feel your words race across my skin,
bare thighs slowly beginning to part
and like faint but palpable heated breeze,
I inhale your unmistakable perfume.

A light lap along glistening lips,
just a tease of delicious textures,
a flick against your pulsing bud,
the slight moan transducing its message
as a sudden tremor through your legs.

A tease is never going to be enough,
it will always be about connection.

The body soon follows.

The heat radiating from us is incomparable
to the moment you pull me to you
and plead for flesh to enter yours,
the raw immediacy in that first thrust,
that primal groan elicited from skin to skin.

I can feel the rivers rushing,
the surge of hips overtaking,
nerves signalled to rapture
as we still look for the words,
only able to utter throaty rasps,
a secret song in our blissful oblivion.

The body will always follow.