Hair
clean fresh and coiffed, our hair is flawless. we wear it like a crown.... but in a moment of weakness,
hair falls effortlessly, a hand reaches out to touch a stray hair that tickles an arm which stirs every hair, and encourages the arm to touch the chest, lush with hair that is fun to run the fingers thru, triggering hands entwined and all is lost. The thought the mind the endless lust that crushes and bruises the lips below the hair above the teeth that gently nip the tongue which tangles like the hair with sticks and leaves mixed in from the ground on which we lie.....
and quietly breath our ragged breaths,
finally rested, we caress, stand up ourselves and walk away,
disheveled.
and our hair a red hot mess.
SweeetKiester SweeetKiester
41-45, F
3 Responses Aug 23, 2014

Hhmmmmmmmm...... Sigh....

*smiles*..

And sometimes lust is the best hairdresser of all! --DW

Talented writer you are

*rolls eyes*... ehhh.... I have my moments. ;)

Lol some better than others