The woman tips traced his curve over her lover’s shoulder with tender pace, as if in the act of savouring the glow of that body.
Feather-light sigh brushed over that nape when her body moved tightly, both forms matching into quiet hunger.
The man returned by that unhurried embrace of mouths one that softened quite gradually, tasting her patience of that quiet calm.
Each touch continued patient, learning rather over claiming, allowing that tension grow across delicate rhythms.
At last softly she gently spoke her lover’s sound into that open lips, that breath bore together care and need.
Through a deep joined stillness both lovers discovered one rhythm one that seemed not so much like urgency and far more closer like secret just the lovers for their bodies would treasure.
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