private public conversations

your words pour over me like buttermilk

richly clinging to my sensitive skin

leaving a viscous and visual residue

to be lapped at like the clotted cream

dripping deliciously from fresh scones

as i gracefully sip my earl grey blend

during high tea at the Chateau on the lake

our private conversation goes unnoticed

until the flush of my skin gives me away

to the arousal i am being subjected to

as you smear me with your lascivious words

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