Feather

February 18, 2009 § 4 Comments

Simple twists of water trickle down her body.

Tumbling like falling horses.

The moonlight teasing every curve of her openly.

Creating her as its divine canvas.

Shades of orange and yellow falling like tiny little stars.

Crashing against her.

She’s been here so many times before.

In this same position.

She can’t stop thinking about him.

The way he sounds against her neck.

Whispering and teasing.

Making her smile.

His smell addictive to her senses.

Musky and sweet.

She can see his hands entwining with hers as the water falls.

Brushing away their worries.

Their sounds illuminating around the room.

She can’t stop touching herself.

Imagining him there.

Her fingers pushing in further.

His cock sliding fully into her mouth.

Hard and urgently.

His hands in her hair.

Pulling and controlling.

The feel of him entering her.

Their bodies creating a halo of pleasure.

Pulling out all of their secrets as the candles around them flicker and faint.

Her fingers working faster.

She’s obsessed.

Missing him.

She begs under the falling water.

Begs for him to touch her.

To make her cum against his skin.

His smile.

His taste.

Their bodies floating like a feather.

Never to part.

As she convulses against her own hands.

The only thought in her mind is of him.

 

 © Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe

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