Spread your palms, let him read the Mounts of Venus. Iris to iris, watch him taste the tips of slender desire longing to encircle surrender. Go slow when you hold the smoulder of the Sun. Feel it dip into the horizons of shoulders, invite thumbs and index to craft a vise, a gasp, a rapture of twin peaks twisted on molten flesh. Whimper, breathe, smile, swallow, follow the flash of
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