I dream in peach satin, pealing low,
slick, the succulent lipid tang invades,
pervades, lingers long after the wick winks,
once, twice and steals me deep.
Through scented waves he creeps and eases in as hot skin slips, enfolds,
callused pads flick and trace a lazy sigh at nape, breath hot, teasing.
I dream in titian silk and cream igniting,
lifting, shifting, skin a-prickle,
yielding on a sigh, he steals me deep.