The Get-Up Fired golden curls cascade, as your blue eyes smolder, pink flushed cheeks slyly smile

at me with cherry wine lips. White silk fitted blouse scoop breasts like two full dollops of vanilla ice cream set in sweet candy cones of pale lace beneath. Tight black skirt wraps around gartered hips nestled against a lace thong that parts the way. Straps pinched tight to thigh highs which hang close against skin that has seen many a sin. Legs so defined as to entice a man’s mind from afar and a women’s eyes to fill with envy disguised. Diamond studded black stilettos command my attention as you walk casually towards me in the sexual space that you create. I am helplessly yours. By Philip Wardlow

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