is sacred to me.
I crave it more
than any other touch.

It’s been ages since I’ve been kissed.
I fantasize daily
about the man of my dreams
showing up in my life
and kissing me passionately.

He shows no hesitation.
He knows he wants me.
His lips reach for mine
desperate to connect on the same
deep physical
yet spiritual level.

Our hearts race
as our lips touch
our touches caress
our caresses stimulate
our stimulation satisfies.
We smile as we break away
looking in each other’s eyes
knowing how much more there is to come.

Kissing is such a strange concept.
If we were to see
two squirrels in the park
locking lips and
shoving their tongues
in each other’s mouths,
we’d think they were crazy.

Yet watching two humans
gazing into each other’s eyes
touching each other’s faces
leaning in and brushing their lips against
the other’s willing lips.
Slowly their lips part,
tongues tentatively touching,
desire building and growing,
passion developing with every passing second.
It’s arousing.
It’s stimulating.
It’s highly erotic.
It’s sexy beyond words.
It speaks to our deepest desires.

I miss that touch,
that eroticism,
that connection.
I crave a man wanting me
loving me
needing me
lusting after me
kissing me


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