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The woman digits traced that curve over the man’s shoulder with careful pace, as while savouring the heat of her lover’s skin.
Quiet whisper touched against bare nape and then his lover moved against him, both forms aligning through silent want.
Her lover returned by that unhurried touch of lips one that intensified quite without rush, exploring her tenderness from his lover’s calm.
Each touch remained gentle, mapping rather instead of demanding, feeling their warmth swell in gentle pulses.
The moment his lover at last whispered her lover’s sound against the skin, that whisper carried at once softness plus longing.
Through their joined pause their bodies discovered a pace a rhythm that became not so much similar to impatience instead of truer like quiet promise solely both among their hearts might treasure.
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