06 May, 2008


He’s shaking his head, damp hair rasping lightly against the crisp cotton of the pillowcase. He’s still coming down from the wondrous throes laid upon him by her body. She lies nestled against his side, fingers trailing lightly, absently through the dark hair curling from his torso.

Even though the late afternoon air in the bedroom is stifling, the sweat of her exertions cools rapidly against the hot breath of the breeze blowing through the open window, transforming her smooth flesh into a rippling landscape of miniature hills and valleys.

Read the full story @ Liz Wired

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