Orgasm, or Denial?
And while the night passes, time also must stand still, because there is only feeling.
The feeling of touch on your tummy, on your balls, on the tip of your ears, and upon the brow of your forehead. Flowing gently from one place to another, the touch of velvety skin, of fabric satin and silky, of warm moist breath and saliva—on your nipples, upon your frenulum and the glans, about the perineum, and at the joints of your elbows.
Nothing but the pure bliss of arousal and desire.
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