Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Primrose Path

I was listening to Anywhere by 112, and thus inspired.

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Never has my flesh been inspected so thoroughly. My maculate ebony skin becomes beauteous at the pressure of his perfecting fingertips. Eager sweat gathers in the small of my back as dew begins to settle upon my lips. A closed smile lingers there, begging to be parted by your touch. Cleverly you tantalize me, your wandering fingers carefully avoiding my unwavering breasts, your saccharine lips only gently grazing against mine. Submitting to my hushed pleas, you turn my body into your clay, gracefully sculpting me against you. Your shoulder fits perfectly in the crook of the back of my knee, my left leg wraps tightly around your core. Frozen, for only a moment, we appear to be a bronze statue, glistening in the light of the distant stars. And then you enter me. Slowly. Cautiously. I sense the passion in your loins as your excursion of me quickens. My soft flesh buckles beneath your strength. Calamity grows deep in my lust. Rough trembles begin at my thighs and travels in quakes over my body as I explode. My fingernails dip deep into the earth beneath me. My walls collapse making it impossible for you to escape. Every trace of my pain is waved away as your delectation pours into me.

Your body comes down upon me heavily, flattening my breasts. Slumber captures us, and it isn't until the sun rays shine upon us that you retreat from me.

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