By Anjil Sardar
Long before I smelled your skin I sensed an auspicious vibe from a distance of a couple of inchs maybe , Not of the perfume , but some soul moulding aroma, I could not find a trace of , but very fresh and satisfying, right from your nodes of skin from your back , when I unbuttoned your shirt and through my tongue , I moistening your upper back , climbing down straight from the spine . Your bra strap have a humour , The pins on both the adjacent end of the cloth ,bridging two ends of equal length poped open on my upper lip You did not waste a moment to grip my lip with yours ,gently softening by your saliva ,your tongue as brush. By the time your left breast , cast a brief look , when the cupped cloth gone down through your left shoulder , like a curtain , On the grammo , in the corner beside the window, Mazurka op.67, No.2 in G minor by Chopin .
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