The Bona-Fide Ride

Under the mistletoe With a kindling smile Reflect by the candle halo Her flirtatious attitude Solo dancing the tango Enticing to come over Then going on her tiptoe Letting her hunger go Moving to the backside The motion of the tide From the garnet chalice The freshness, the sweetness The cleanness, the softness Leaving the world breathless The gentle sea breeze Doing as she please Hands moving down the thigh The original scent is high Garb sliding to the knees Off by the flick of the toe Taking it slow Moving as a guide, her eyes are wide Putting inside and starting the ride Ultra-efficiency liquid Beatitude, pulchritude so vivid Bona fide, the ride of the tide Happily, blissful angel Oh, by the way, this is a commercial Updated 5/14/2019