The little things

So often its the little things that make me catch my breath with desire. A woman just leaned past me, arm extended and crooked at the elbow. Her fine pebbly skin was tan, and I followed the line of her muscle up to the juncture of her arm and back with my eyes. That dip was stretched and taut, and looked so incredibly touchable. I couldn't help but imagine running my tongue along the lines my eyes had just traveled, and my stomach clenched with desire at the thought.

And, for some reason, the lines around this man's beautiful eyes are making me a little breathless. Crows feet. Not a very sexy name. But I'm imagining them crinkling as he labors above me, face grim and eyes narrowed, tongue just touching the corner of his mouth. I want to reach out and run my fingers down the lines of his face.

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