March 2009
2 posts
this is how sunday afternoon should fade into night… the sweet tart taste of champagne and orange, full bodied deep brown black coffee, molten chocolate cake too early in the afternoon, the lightheaded pleasure of 3 drinks in at 3.30, skin on skin, arms wrapped around, the soft caress of hands in hair. Warm air on bodies, blankets with the kiss of mohair tangled in limbs, the strewn trail of...
the ice coaxed her nipple high, and i kissed it, then bit it, and she gasped and later said - there is a perfect moment when the heat of your lips and the pain overcomes the numbing cold and i am flooded with the warm blood rush of want….
