He puffed guilt into the air,

Vaporized virtue and waited.

Knowing you’d be entranced,

A titillating whirlwind of scents

As the sandalwood melted into your nostrils, navigating the valleys of his body,

The inhale was almost orgasmic.

The next intake landed, curled, made itself comfortable around his puff of smoke.

It’s now something for you to call your own. You take on his probity.

For he never really claimed it, knowing you’d acquiesce for both.

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