Peek-a-boo, goes a little bit of panty, a hint of cheek, the barest hint of nipple.
Look hard enough and you’ll notice most of what I wear is just a little sheer.
When I take my boots off, I unzip them slowly. Inch by painful inch.
When I wake in the morning, I slip out of my shirt with intention, feeling it brush soft across belly, breasts, neck.
When I see myself in the mirror, a wicked smile graces my lips.
I love the way I look, the ways I can tease.
I love when you have to do a double take, when I can see your pulse beat in your throat. You don’t even realize you’re licking your lips.
I don’t do it for you, but I revel in how much you wish I did.
I don’t do it for you, but my breath comes a little faster when I think of how it tortures you. How much you long for just one more inch of skin.
I revel, even when I’m alone, at how much power is in every curve, from curls to eyelashes, the hollow in my throat to the arch of my foot.
I know you want to feel the silk of my skin against your fingertips. I know you want me to aim the camera just a little higher. I know you wonder what I taste like.
And I love that you will keep wondering.
Keep longing.
Keep thinking about me long after you finish reading these words.