I love the way I can still taste her on my lips the next morning. Faint memories of the previous night come flashing back. Rolling around in the bed, exploring one another's body with our hands and lips. The salt of her skin. The smooth feeling of silk on my fingers when I slip them in her. The way she squirms when my tongue touches that sweet spot.

I wish nights with her would never end. It seems like we're just starting when it's all over. I dream about her. I dream about looking down on her, her eyes peering back up at me from between my thighs. Her ice cold blue eyes, searing through my soul and driving me insane.

She sometimes wears skirts when we meet. She'll purposefully bend over a little too far, letting me catch a glimpse of what hides between her thighs. Her strong, smooth thighs. Or she'll cross her legs from across the room, leaving them apart for just a moment too long, showing me what I could have. "Not now, but later," her eyes tell me.

I want to taste her again.

<3 Sarah <3 ...
0 french kisses:.