The nymph gasped, arching her hips toward him with a desire she was powerless to control. Gregori’s eyes never left hers for a moment. He clasped her hand in his and placed it into the soft black hair on his chest. He felt her fingers playing, stroking, exploring as they moved down to caress his flat stomach. Her fingers faltered as her gaze fell on the throbbing fullness of his manhood. He cupped her face in his hands and slowly, ever so slowly, circled her luscious lips with his tongue until he felt them press forward for more. He groaned from the depths of his soul. His mouth devoured hers as he crushed her against him. “You belong to me,” he gasped. “Please, let me take you!” Her large, slanted eyes begged him as her hands pulled him over her body. “Yes,” she whispered. “You can speak!” “Yes. Now I can speak, but I can’t fly.” “You can fly with me. I’ll take you anywhere you desire to go.” Moment by moment Gregori inched forward into the moist ecstasy of her delicate body. A deep, throbbing coil of electricity drew him in, until his very soul poured into the vortex of her love. For endless moments, their bodies, eyes and souls lay entwined; their lips pressing and kissing and their fingers touching and lingering. Later that night, the luminous glow of the full moon, smiled down upon the two lovers. Love is able to weave a powerful spell when our desire is to be one, no matter the cost. Unconditional love knows no boundaries, no walls, no judgments. It will do whatever is necessary to forge the bond. Bathed in the twinkling, silver moonlight, Gregori tenderly cradled his beloved in his arms, molding her into the length of his body. With a fierce protectiveness he pressed his full lips against her cheek then buried his face in her hair. Her delicate hands were pressed against his heart, her fingers gently entwined in the soft dark hairs on his chest. Now you may say that this was just a dream, a story I’ve imagined. But the evidence that this magical story of love was not a dream lay on the pillow case beside them – a tiny pair of gossamer wings, sparkling in the moonlight. Copyright 2000.
Posted on: Sat, 15 Jun 2013 18:43:56 +0000
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