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[MartaJer]

The woman digits caressed his contour upon the man’s upper arm through deliberate rhythm, as she were savouring his temperature of that flesh.
Soft breath brushed over his neck and then his lover pressed closer, both bodies pressing with growing want.
Her lover met her using that deep kiss that grew ever so without rush, drinking every sweetness of that quiet restraint.
Every caress stayed patient, exploring more of seizing, watching shared fire rise through slow rhythms.
When his lover gently murmured the word into that open breath, every whisper bore the twin gentleness alongside want.
During this quiet shared calm they found a rhythm which felt hardly as impatience and rather like quiet promise that both for their bodies alone could guard.
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