© 2007 by Shelia M. Goss

Is it his smile that keeps me coming back,
Or is it the smooth sound of his voice?
Is it the smell of his cologne as he walks on by,
Or is it the teardrop I saw fall from his eye?

Is it the way he caresses my body,
Or the way he holds my hand?
Is it how he lifts my spirits when I’m down,
Or seems to know when to be just a friend?

It’s the essence of the man.

His walk
Smoother than a panther on the prowl
His hands
Sliding against my soft skin
His fingers
Roaming, making me melt with each touch.
His tongue,
Slithering, lingering, touching my g-spot.

What keeps me coming back?

The lists goes on and on.
To sum it all up, it’s the essence of the man.

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