Mystic corner

[MysticOceansFL]

In the small of her back
floats a perfect drop of sweat,
no alluring feature does it lack:
musty, tempting, wet.

Resting in a lake enclosed by land
surrounding beads threaten to break,
but with a light caress of my hand
the bead does not join the wake.

Drifting across the rise of her hips,
tickling, whispering, nibbling her skin,
goose bumps rise to meet my lips;
shivers, quivers, echo from deep within.

With an arch of her back the journey begins,
the perfect drop sails over delicate flesh
completely unaware of our delicious sins,
it rides over her skin to where our bodies mesh.

She turns to her side, it travels around the world
to drift down the valley 'tween rising hills
and exit again to a new land unfurled,
ready to take part in our sensual thrills.

I chase it's descent down her graceful neck,
the drop rises then pauses at the crest of her chin
like a sea faring gull aboard a ships deck.
But with the top of my lip I brush the drop in

to tide pools churning beneath my lovers mouth
and up over the swell of her lip.
My eyes look north, my hands move south,
I puase for a moment and then take a sip.

And for the drop it's the journeys end;
I share the sweet drop with a lovers kiss.
She opens her legs, her knees bend,
and we drift on a sea of sexual bliss.
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