He toasts quickly in the summer, every week his arms and shoulders a deeper shade of man oak, his close shorn salted pelt in ever sharper silvering contrast across the back of his neck and curving around his earlobes. I lay my cheek against his velvet pate, warming my face and throat on secondhand sunshine.
He wraps his forearms around me, comparing his chestnut warmth to the blue bloodlines that shimmer beneath my skin, his fingers making a dark cage to enclose the brazen vanilla of my breasts.
3 comments:
*Big smile*
I love that sort of contrast and there is something delicious about swarthy male skin! Enjoy, honey - love from another pale 'n interesting gal x
Invoicing, ah yes. Give yourself a monthly target: it does so help focus the mind!
M in Devon (enjoying kids who have been gainfully employed all weekend, and who are now *soooo* tired!)
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