Your Stockings

Soft sighed fabric encouragement, fate’s last groping distant digital dream. Breathless wonder, moments found flesh hidden in hearts torn chords. Tight clipped moiré edged delicate mystery filled license for touch keeps eyes fixed on potential theater of flash. Exhibitionist’s delight in private nylon clad show now public, threaded elastic taut lines full of skin defined as sheer hot content. Voyeur-ed borders cause promise to raise its head with the (what’s that going on over there) thing that it does when something becomes real. Almost popped, glossy steel bound belts hold rapt attention’s space between legs sweet lipped notes. Oft remembered revelations of slippery gartered curves, my tongue’s prayer to you, susurrations smooth satin swell touching you again – and there.

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