I reach out with one hand to the raised leg and grasping your knee. Rotating your leg away to lay against the back of the seat, your womanhood opening... like a flower before my eyes in the pale light... the heady musky aroma of your arousal floating up to meMy hand slides down the inner surface of your bent leg coming to rest at your hip... fingers curved to the top on your leg as my thumb slips across your labia to rest against the hood of your pearl. My lips meet the wispy tendrils of pubic. What is the most I miss about youIs the question I often ask my heartI get so many mixed answersI just don’t know where to startDeep down inside I know the truthI realize that we can never again be togetherBut there is this tiny speck of hopeWhich says, never say neverI miss you . We broke up bitterlyBut this poem is not about our spatI don’t love you anymoreBut this poem is not about thatI guess you are wonderingWhat is the fuss about this rhymeThe truth be told, I confessI have been missing. Like most of the kids I and my sisters also played doctor at home. Totally unaware of the sex, we used to get naked and examine each other bodies but as my sisters started to grow boobs and small pubic hairs the game stopped. This all increase my curiosity about sex. We lived in a house where the toilet and bathroom was out of the house and at the end the backyard near the boundary of house. At night before going to sleep, my mother and sisters used to take me along to toilet and they made me. That night, he picked me up from my apartment in his Mercedes SL-Class convertible.First, we went to a restaurant where we were feeding each other pasta, seafood, and steak. He even dipped a piece of lobster in butter and fed it to me with his fingers. Then, we went dancing at a dance club. Brandon was complimenting all through the night. He even said of how sexy I looked in my black gown with full length skirt, hand beaded ornaments, bra friendly straps, deep cowl neckline, empire waistline,.