In a tall apartment building she gazed and stared with an earnest look at the city at night.
The city of lights on a typical cold winter night.
Feeling the deep freezing wind and the penetrating coldness to the heart and soul.
What summer gives, winter takes away.
Along with the Spring, he sailed with the skip of seasons,
Staring at the sweaty walls reminiscing the Summer gone.
Like an angel sent from above, he appears in her life,
Told his dreams, told her jokes to make her laugh all night long.
It was not the words alone that subdued her, but his touch.
His touch was stronger than what she had thought.
A skillful master in the sexual art of making love.
Carefully touching with tenderness, gazing into her eyes with elegant posture,
And worshiping sexual gratification without intercourse
Gracefully yelling the limbs do the searching,
Learning the luxurious language of touch, entering a world of sensual intimacy,
Through conscious touching his warm breath searching through her body,
Molding her, framing her physique, allowing her to indulge in an ecstasy of pleasure.
Although she was not a maiden, she was a virgin at his touch.
Slow tender hands that flow and awaken erotic emotions within her.
Now alone she aches for contact of the bodies, mind and soul.