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Her scent lingers

Siren Whispers

FullSizeRenderShe’s not there but her scent lingers.

He idly touches her things

the silk robe, the soft chemise she wears to bed

the lace top stockings she wore to dinner the evening before.

He lifts them to his face, inhaling her scent

remembering how she looked fresh from her bath

her countenance rosy as she smoothed the lotion over calves and thighs

his eyes tracking the movements of her fingers

enjoying the way her skin looked

the muscles underneath moving with every new motion.

He rubs the silk against his cheek

remembering how it felt under his hands as he stroked her thigh under the table.

His fingers moving ever inward and upward.

Her dress no barrier to his questing hands

finding the edge of her lace knickers and slipping underneath.

Touching her heat, her wetness.

Knowing she would not betray his actions

delighting in their game.

He remembers how…

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