House Call
There are times when love requires a personal touch. Not long after dawn, I head to your house. The front door is unlocked, so I enter, quietly heading upstairs like the egg-bearing Easter bunny. As I enter the bedroom, you say, 'Good morning.' The creaky stairs must have given me away. I spoon you, my warm hands sliding under your pyjamas. My fingers attune to your soft, smooth, sensitive skin and low seraphic sighs. Slowly, you turn to face me. My fingers find your sanctu...