Laced in Temptation

A breeze, a blush, the ocean’s sigh,
Blue lace kisses my skin so shy.
The storm had passed, the waves began—
And I slipped into my wicked plan.

Wicked Weasel, barely there,
A hint of lace, a sultry stare.
With every tug, a secret tease,
The wind caressed me like a breeze.

Salt on my skin, soft sun glow,
Tattooed curves put on a show.
I move like sugar melts in heat—
Slow, smooth, seductive, sweet.

Microminimus made me bloom,
Now I don’t just pose—I consume.
A little wild, a little tame...
But nothing sweet is ever the same.