Her hands trace down my body, starting with the lips. She run her fingers over them, touching their parted space, then move up to my cheekbones. Over the eyelids, soft as snow, up over my brow, her lips leaving butterfly kisses on my chest. Over the curve of the ear, thumb caressing my temples, fingers sliding down my neck. Her lips suckle the underside of my throat as her hands encircle it, then slide up to my scalp to massage, up to the top of my head where the soft spot was, then, with strong fingers, she moves back down.