09-05-2014, 01:32 PM
I paint her in summer sun,
the midday breeze caressing
Diana’s proud breasts,
warm fingers of August heat
tracing circles over taut flesh.
Brushstrokes mimic alabaster skin
dimpled with shades of barest pink;
her cheeks flush, fires stoked within—
she is aroused, and I am nervous.
The model’s eyes narrow in mischief.
I ask her not to smile
but she does anyway.
the midday breeze caressing
Diana’s proud breasts,
warm fingers of August heat
tracing circles over taut flesh.
Brushstrokes mimic alabaster skin
dimpled with shades of barest pink;
her cheeks flush, fires stoked within—
she is aroused, and I am nervous.
The model’s eyes narrow in mischief.
I ask her not to smile
but she does anyway.