The sweet of me.


It’s the small things that carry the heaviest weight of sensuality. It’s the curve of a shoulder peeking out, the sudden growth of my nipples as a draft passes. It’s the tastes on my tongue, a velvet touch against my skin, and the warm aroma between my legs. Yes, that is where it resides.

The sweet of me, the scent of my heat.

There are times, when I venture off alone. Alone to some corner of some dark little bar. I sit back with a glass of wine, a short dress, and nothing beneath. On hot evenings I like the patio, as the bashful breezes play between my thighs. I sweat beneath this temperate and am more fragrant than ever. The honey between my lips calls the men to me. I need to do nothing more than let my pheromones linger.

It’s my Venus trap. I will consume you.

Your wallet, your mind, your world…becomes me.

Eve LemeurComment