fingers trailing across hot skin like the gentlest of rain running with no clear path
dancing in chaos with hidden order to caress every hidden secret
flicking tip of hungry tongue and lips
like a bee, circling the bloom so intoxicatingly full of pollen
spreading the petals of the flower with burning need to find the gently resting treasure
spinning slowly in circles around it, tentative, exploratory, finding a rhythm based on the arching back and softly whispered moans
less hesitant
soon alternating between fevered need and restraint
taking the symphony of desire to the heights of crescendo before halting just at the edge of the final glorious note
only to fall back into slow and teasing refrains
a conductor with tongue as baton directing the flow and ebb of symphonic pleasure for an audience of one
finally every instrument, breath, lip, fingertip and tongue find the edge of the tempest and allow it to burst into life
riding along as the ocean boils, the earth shakes, the chorus erupts into an aria of release
only to begin again