My lover held a blanket in her arms and whispered, "Follow me to the distant garden in the forest." Her soft voice was alluring, and she moved like a willow in the breeze. She tossed the blanket between the fruit on the vine like a wave upon the shore. Beneath her flowing gossamer gown, I gazed at a living goddess from ancient Greece. This must be a figure of Aphrodite come alive. Her smooth, pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. I was helpless to resist her. Soon, we were tightly wrapped in one entity, indistinguishable as separate lovers. Hearts beat as one. Breathing was as a single billow. The soft grass under the blanket made our bed complete. Her lips bore the heat of the fever within. Her breasts were soft, her nipples hard, compelling me to nourish my desire. The identity of my manhood explores the cave of Venus within her. When we were nothing more than an ashen stone in the moonlight, the sweet sleep of joy gave us rest.
pixabay.om1 year ago. Friday, December 6, 2024 at 9:01 AM
