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Whisky Sour


Whisky Sour

Reds and golds swirl…dancing in delight…sending chills across my lips.
Your sweet nectar slides past my lips and teases my tongue…
The first taste sends a heady rush coursing through me…
delighting my senses...
The rush leaves me wanting more...
Parted lips, ready for another taste of your sweetness…
And I drink you in... 
longer, faster pulling you in to my mouth…
savoring you..
Ice cold, you burn me to the core...
And I thank you.
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Comments

  1. SupeApril 23, 2020 at 11:57 PM

    You're one of kind. I'll never look at a lady drinking a Whiskey Sour the same again. I'm headed to the bar as we speak. Whiskey Sours on me. Great piece!!!

    ReplyDelete

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