Let Your Hair Spill Down
Eyes sparkling, she whispers
It's even better with my hair down
hands reaching behind her head
back arched, full breasts high
ringlets fall onto pale silken skin
warm gold cascading over us
Legs spread she pins me down
her head a cloud her hair the rain
washing over me soft and gentle
lips like lightening strikes dancing
deftly wrapping me up in her web
wrapped tightly in her tresses
W. I. Boucher December 9, 2004
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keeping a good woman happy is not being henpecked, it is investing in your future
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