It was not a night to sleep; it was a night for sweltering passions. The humidity hung thick in the air and the temperature was as unforgiving as the Sub-Saharan sun at midday. A sexy sheen of perspiration bathed your body as I lay silently watching you. The white cotton sheet wrapped sensuously around your legs, a tangled mass, was evidence of our previous intense, sweaty lovemaking.
“Dance with me,” I whispered as I saw your body stir. Come; let’s use the moon as our spotlight and the rhythm of the night as our music. I pulled your sleepy frame from the bed and put my arms around you. You laughed at my silly suggestion but the intensity of our naked bodies moving together, the electricity between us as we held each other close, inspired a dance of erotic expression.
We fit together perfectly, our bodies like pieces in a sensual puzzle. The drumbeat pulsed like the blood coursing through our veins. The Afro-Cuban rhythms heard only in our heads were genetically encoded in our DNA. We moved together like two well-choreographed dancers; our dance was of romance, intimacy and erotic expression.
Our skin stuck together and our bodies moved together in unison. Your hands slid down the small of my back. My lips tasted the salty sweet nape of your neck. We danced. We danced the dance of mythical lovers until our heat could be contained no more. I melted into you and you melted into me . . . doing the Midnight Tango.
Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK
Basket of Love
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