Warning – Erotica Adult over 18 Only

Your skin reminds me of cinnamon and ginger, that tang of spices fresh and burning on the tongue

Early in the morning I want to inhale you, you sleep cold

You say I am a furnace keeping you warm as you wrap yourself around me

You say I am your anchor; we fall asleep tangled together at night

Every morning you are wrapped around me sharing my heat

My breasts settled heavily in your hand and you nestled between my legs

The sheets are damp, from your sleep and our lovemaking of the night before

Your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat and your spice scent

I sleep too hot in your arms yet am reluctant to leave for cooler climes

Moving will wake you; the scent of your skin sends small shivers down my spine

I push back at you, your arm tightens around me instinctively capturing and slowing movement

You tighten yourself against my back pulling me closer, making us one

Your breath lifts my hair as you nestle closer still, holding tightly

Your breath settles back to the rhythm of slumber even while your body wakes

Slowly we begin to move together with recognized rhythms of morning

We barely move yet the universe spins us outward stars brighten then explode

The flavor of your spice heightened by our morning dance on sunbeams is on my tongue

As our rhythm moves from Tango to Salsa, your hands glide from breast downward

The sun warms you, as I have through the night your slumber undisturbed even as I say good morning

Each of us smile as we settle into our day anchored by the other, your spice fills the room

You have rolled over to the spot I have left and grabbed my pillow, do I leave a scent too

Valentine, 1-May-2014