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Making love on Olympos

His tongue is a flame on my skin.  He begins at my ankle, soft and cool at first, tracing the narrow bones, a circlet of silver, and as he moves up the back of my calf, I feel his touch burning, burning.

But I’m strong, my skin is feather-light, hard as diamonds.  He kisses the back of my left knee and I laugh and call out – it tickles and arouses me, both.  His fingers are on my golden thigh, drawing patterns of lust in my skin.  I sink my fingers into his white silk hair, rough, tearing.  Not even a thread comes loose.  He stops, and looks to me.  His eyes are blue-green, deep and cold as a lake.

“Don’t stop.”

But he grins, and skims my hips with his snake tongue, around and about, wavelets that don’t make the tide line.

“I’ll change, just see if I don’t,” I whisper, though he’s driving me to desperation.  Me, an immortal, a goddess – but in this I’m just female, full of desires, weak as a woman.

“Like this?”  His white hair turns tawny, his blue eyes golden, he’s a tiger looking down on my naked body, warm breath at my throat.

“Like this.”  I dissolve beneath him, laughing, and become a river of air, so that he crouches on emptiness.  But empty is what I am, and what I don’t want to be, so I take again the form of a woman, honey-skinned, voluptuous.

He takes me by the throat, softly, and I hear him growl as he enters me.  I close my eyes and cling to his thick, soft fur, feel him purr as I constrict around him.

He comes as a man, and we lie together as male and female, and I kiss the perfect lips and know that we’ve made another, this time.

And that, my little god, is how you were conceived.

About turnipsforbreakfast

Rose has two blogs, www.butimbeautiful.wordpress.com, and www.turnipsforbreakfast.wordpress.com. Enjoy!

2 responses »

  1. whiteladyinthehood

    You are very good with description!! It draws you in from the beginning. You have a very unique writing style.

    Reply

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