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                     Picture Perfect

Her pose was of perfection as I took her photograph.
Her tilted head and flowing hair as I heard her laugh.
Dark, rich and silky mane framed her perfect smile.
Long legs to caress would take me quite a while.

Splendid beauty, lustered skin, the art of the ages.
Her gorgeous image would grace my artists pages.
A profile men dream about right before my eyes.
A glint and a sparkle painted blue to match the sky.

Now the wardrobe as I searched for a dress.
Such a body was a shame to cover none-the less.
Breasts full and ripe, touched in tips of brown.
Separated perfectly, fully tanned and round.

I examined her thoroughly, wild thoughts filled my mind.
She was perfectly proportioned, even from behind.
Her body slender with narrow waist, awaiting sweet caress.
Her hips looked a 34 to match her perfect breasts.

I ran my hand over her form as the flesh made tiny ripples.
This brought a change in her, a gasp and hardened nipples.
Now I had the flush I needed to complete the picture.
My face behind the camera lens to get it in the aperture.
The Masked Writer <-.-> <o.->
� 2002 T Lovett
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