~ She ~

By Crystal

Late at night she lays upon her bed,

Visions and thoughts running through her head.

She feels the cool breeze kiss her bare skin.

She closes her eyes and lets her mind spin.

She breathes so shallow and slow,

And the music fills her from head to toe.

She has fears that are always inferred,

But she knows silence must be heard.

Dare she let her fingers campaign?

There are no words that will explain.

She releases her mind from her body,

Freeing her fingers to dance and none too shoddy.

She twitches as they linger upon her breasts,

Each nipple her fingers do quest.

Her breathing deeper; her skin so flushed,

Lower to her tummy her fingers have brushed.

She feels her body start to moan,

But arrests it with a groan.

For she should never utter such a word,

But yet her silence must be heard.

Lower still her fingers march on,

To her mound they rest upon.

Slowly they part her tender lips,

Releasing the heat and moisture between her hips.

Moving tenderly as one so young,

In this state she has been flung.

Her skin is taught and glowing,

And she keeps her sounds from moaning.

Soon her fingers work their magic,

That she is not free is so tragic.

She feels inner heat that takes her to the edge,

And her fingers hold her upon that ledge.

Now it is time for her to decide,

From deep pleasures should she hide?

For if she lets herself go,

Her sounds would let everyone know.

She considers and puts pleasure on hold,

She is not yet ready to be so bold.

So she slows and touches light as a bird,

But she knows soon her silence must be heard.