Perfect Drop of Sweat

In the small of her backfloats a perfect drop of sweat,no alluring feature does it lack:musty, tempting, wet.Resting in a lake enclosed by landsurrounding beads threaten to break,but with a light caress of my handthe bead does not join the wake.Drifting across the rise of her hips,tickling, whispering, nibbling her skin,goose bumps rise to meet my lips;shivers, quivers, echo from deep within.With an arch of her back the journey begins,the perfect drop sails over delicate fleshcompletely unaware of our delicious sins,it rides over her skin to where our bodies mesh.She turns to her side, it travels around the worldto drift down the valley 'tween rising hillsand exit again to a new land unfurled,ready to take part in our sensual thrills.I chase it's descent down her graceful neck,the drop rises then pauses at the crest of her chinlike a sea faring gull aboard a ships deck.But with the top of my lip I brush the drop into tide pools churning beneath my lovers mouthand up over the swell of her lip.My eyes look north, my hands move south,I puase for a moment and then take a sip.And for the drop it's the journeys end;I share the sweet drop with a lovers kiss.She opens her legs, her knees bend,and we drift on a sea of sexual bliss