A bottle of wine left to breathe,
Resonating melody frolicking in between,
In the lovely afternoon bliss,
In the lovely afternoon bliss,
A clink of our glasses,
A smile that captivates.
Who keeps a count of swills?
When you are amused it seems,
Giggles and yarns all left out,
Flirty talks, caresses abound.
He offered his hand,
To sway me in his arms,
A slow song that played,
Was the absolute trice,
Of how our eyes met in delight.
A sigh escaped his lips,
A grin submerged it within,
A rough yank at his shirt,
A stroke trailing my back,
A tilt of our heads,
A lift of the chin,
A barely there kiss began.
He tasted my lips plumb,
The stout wine kindling intuits,
An appeal that sealed in all the spaces,
As his tongue devoured mine in instances.
A nibble or two, warmth spreading low,
Suckling on the sensitiveness,
Hands exploring skin,
Waiting to be one within.
Not knowing where the time fluttered,
Protected in his lingering embrace,
As his hands traced my every curve,
Out of breath, we held each other timeless.
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