I switched off the light,
Lit a candle,
Creating a romantic milieu,
You stood before the dressing table.
I went closer to you,
So close that you could feel my breath,
Which was hot as the pressure cooker!
I grabbed your waist passionately so!
I kissed on your neck gently,
As if I were holding a butterfly in my hand!
So close that you could feel my breath, Which was hot as the pressure cooker! Sorry dear, my kiss on your neck gave you 3rd degree burns. And I had to carry you to the local hakim in my manly arms for salve and ointment to cure your burns!
Butterfly on a hot pressure cooker. What a friendly exposure! !
Lit a candle, Creating a romantic milieu The butterfly in my hand flitted to the flame of the candle! O Allah, Allah, I cried, what happened! That was the end of my world of love!