That first look when you see someone you’re interested in, and try to study her without staring. Flirting is lost in the rush to passion.
The first touch, when you discreetly place your arm on her back as you lean in to hear her better. The first time your hands touch, feeling the spark of excitement, possibilities, and hope of more to come. Hands glide, fingers touch, feeling and exploring trying to find those spots that’ll make her gasp, moan and put fire in her eyes. Touching is a lost art, lost to the rush of lust.
Sliding into your first kiss, tentative, wondering as your tongue slides across her lips requesting to enter and explore more of her. Trailing your lips across her neck, nibbling on her ear and returning to kiss her lips more, wanting to make her groan as you stoke her fires until she glows and cries for more.. Kissing is a lost art, lost in the rush to complete.
Slowly removing her layers, the clothes she adorned herself with to accentuate her curves to draw your eyes to her and keep them on her. Each layer reveals new territory to explore, touch, kiss and tease. What makes her gasp? What makes her cry? What makes her strive to tear the same layers from you so that she in turn can draw you out. Slowly, methodically and never pausing to allow her to regroup you peel away her layers, leaving the few things that please you both, her silk stockings, and maybe her heels, you decide. Seduction is a lost art, lost to the rush to release.
Build the fire slowly, stoke her furnace, fill her with lust and passion so that she cries for you...
