Thursday, January 28, 2010
That voice..
No matter how many times I've heard it, the time that has passed since I've heard or whether I hear it on the phone or in the dark right next to me I'm reduced to a puddle of desire. I desire his hands on my body, his lips on my skin and I desire to feel him deep inside me. Though time, distance and logic should temper this desire, it has a tendency to flare up at the oddest of moments. The images flash, the weight of his body, the smell of mint and french toast all wrapped into one very inappropriate moment tied up with a bow of rope.
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that's a nice thought and excellent image.
ReplyDeleteI like the new look.
It all just comes down to food. :)
ReplyDeleteI can SO relate to this....
ReplyDeleteLove the new look too!
You lost me until you said French Toast! :-)
ReplyDeleteLove it!
ReplyDeletehugs,
mouse
Nothing like Passion!
ReplyDeleteWhy don't girls ever say "feeling him in the right spot inside me" or "half-way inside me and a little up" - it's always "deep." ;)
ReplyDeleteOh yes, SO well said!
ReplyDeleteFelt it, feel it, want it!
ReplyDeleteSome people just have that affect on us huh??
ReplyDeleteReally liked this x
ReplyDeleteThe power or sounds and words is never to be underestimated. I do adore a woman who has an appreciation for them.
ReplyDelete