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Love Till Her Waistline

A guest contribution by the lovely Erotic Indian Girl. I keep telling her she should get her own blog, she’s talented! Hopefully she’ll listen to me soon. In the meanwhile, enjoy!

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Love till her waistline

Did you plan this, she asked.
No, but in all honesty,
I have always wanted it,
He said.

Did you like it, she tensed.
Did you ever feel
Like I did not,
He smiled.

What, then, did you like,
She demanded.
He did not answer
That one.

Turning her over, instead
Gently, he ran his smooth touch
One like she had never dreamt
Or felt before;
The back of his fingers
Fanning over her back,
Like a peacock feather
Back again,
To her waistline.

What was his touch made of?
Silk, ambrosia,
The tautness of his guitar’s strings,
The blessings of angels,
Or the ironic contrast
Of his own hard workouts?

Whatever it was,
That exquisite caress
Was tracing, now
That faint line that led
From her hips
To the place
Below her waistline.

They did not make love,
For his was only hers
To ask, but not take,
To feel, but not keep.
For it was long gone;
My mind rules my heart now
Why don’t you see, he said.
And so, his love ended
At her waistline.

Then she reached out
To where her chandelier earrings lay,
Lit up and sparkling
Under the soft drink hued light;
She would never see him again, she knew,
And kissed him, wet and lingering,
A happy birthday.

And thus, their brief love
Ended.
Just, at her waistline.

– Erotic Indian Girl

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Do let her know what you think, both here and on twitter!

– Sin

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