I tasted just a morsel of your feast br when tongue and fingers launched their fierce attack br upon your succulent buffet, released br at once between your lips, while on your back. br br I savor first the blue-cheese-color eyes, br delight in cherry tips, each melon mound br responding, squirming, moaning, lows and highs br as juices leak here, there and all around. br br The entree simmers keeping itself warm br awaiting gentle probe, intruding deep br into the tender loin, in filet form, br mignon or strip, a boneless choice to keep. br br This feast of you is on another's plate br thus leaving me to wait another date.