Dimly lit; the moon just formed lingers behind the curtain.
Incense from the afternoon wafts in the air.
No bareness; comfort finds itself in the wicker chair and homey items.
Regency style and feminine; delicate roses
Lay neatly patterned over the quilt. The whiteness of the spread
Contrasts with your slightly tanned complexion.
You prop yourself up with trembling arms, above me.
I gasp in anticipation as you raise the weight of your body onto mine.
Breathing is rapid, precise; as if to catch every moment.
Your hands, like anchors find their way between my thighs.
The tension builds, rises, and my body responds with ecstacy.
The release is a wave of burning sensuality.
Yet all I can do is cry out.