you can touch my little brown body...

You find yourself drawn to this Indian beauty, whose warm brown skin catches the light like polished copper demanding your hands.

You trace every curve with your eyes first, lingering where fabric barely clings, where softness gives way to something that makes your breath shallow and your focus narrow to a single point of want.

You already know exactly where you would press your lips, your palms flat against that smooth waist, fingers spreading wide because touching only part of this body would feel like a crime you'd willingly commit again.