there’s something uniquely erotic about your lover dragging their nose across the expanse of your body—their balmy breath warming the arch of your neck and the slope of your shoulder. their spit-slick lips are a hair’s breadth from your tingling flesh, but never touching. the pointed tip of their nose carves a path down down down, nuzzling your softness, ambling along the planes and curves. (to them, your form is a masterpiece that would make even the most talented sculptor weep; they will worship you with due reverence.)