They undress in silence
each knowing that the most
sacred rituals should be
performed naked.
As they played and kissed, they felt
the world recede, leaving them alone
in their intimate paradise, before the
fire and the moon.
Their play were both intemperate
and incautious, plumbing the depths
of joy and freedom until at last she
threw herself with quivering abandon
into his arms. Enfolding her in his
arms she felt a heady bond of
trust and lust.
Closing her eyes, she knew it
would be impossible to feel
happier than she did at
this moment.
They needed no words, yet
the longing to touch was like
a hunger in the blood.
She began to whisper his
name with heart-scalding
hunger. . . Setting his mouth
against her throat, so that
she would not stop saying
his name.
He ran his fingertips along
the valley between her breasts,
down to her navel, then dipping
them between her legs touching
the very core of her center.
He lifts his scolded fingers to
her mouth; “taste" he insists.
Then watching him dip his fingers
back into her fire with slumbering
eyes as he sucks her honeyed
essence from his finger tips,
before her..
Yemanja
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