Desire

Desire's Garden

By Tasha

Wild flowers -- fuscia, violet, sunshine yellow -- tickle her ankles as her toes sink into the wet soil. The heavy rain cascades down over her nude form, a vibrant purple coating the sky. Dark ringlets cling to her face and shoulders. Long, slim fingers move over her body. Her own hands, her own sensations.

Hips swaying casually, swirling around in a circular motion, dancing to the melody of wave after wave of thunder. Absorbing the art of the silver streaks. Weaking in the desire of beauty enveloping her.

Hands cupping her breasts, pinching nipples, caressing her tummy, teasing her warmth. She tilts her face upward and closes her eyes. The serenity blossoms, then dissolves into a tender, yet wild, torment. She thinks about him. His eyes, his lips, his heart beating beneath her ears. His form, his scent, his taste. His pulsating cock, his longing bottom, his hidden crevice. She thinks of licking his lips, nibbling his neck, tugging at his nipples, teasing his belly button, sucking at his hardness, lapping at his balls, probing his bottom.

She gently collapses onto the ground, lost in her daze, a smile molding her lips. The petals and rain drops combine forces to tickle and tantilise her as she softly floats off into a whispery dream of longing.

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