Lingering souls in love

His lips are like sweet berries, and his cologne is as strong as midnight sex. His eyes are big and daring. I’m looking straight into his soul.
His body is firm. Olive skin, and perfectly fit. His hair is a deep brown; perfectly cut shaping his face. I let my hands sweep through his hair, slowly tracing the side of his cheeks. This man, is perfect I think to myself weary-eyed, so emotionally beautiful and nothing could ruin this moment, our moment. I take an instant photo, and the flash blinds my eye site. Smile I say, poking his ribs; he hates pictures.
His touch is soft and gentle, but yet strong and seductive. He is a man. My man. His breath is like a steaming hot bath as it brushes the side of my neck. Goosebumps cover my body. Snap again- he squirms for me to stop taking photos of him. I shake it for the print to show up. Perfect, I’m never getting rid of it. He smiles- grabs me and kisses me passionately. Sophie, stop taking photos of me. Again. I giggle, smile and trace our fingers together. I feel warm, yet it’s freezing in the room. He stops and looks me straight in the eye – a moment so heavenly than followed with uncontrollable laughter. I can’t help myself. I kiss him again, and then we lay there, our limb bodies nestled in one another; in sweet, blissful tranquility.

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