Eyes sparkling, she whispers It's even better with my hair down hands reaching behind her head back arched, full breasts high ringlets fall onto pale silken skin warm gold cascading over us Legs spread she pins me down her head a cloud her hair the rain washing over me soft and gentle lips like lightening strikes dancing deftly wrapping me up in her web wrapped tightly in her tresses
W. I. Boucher December 9, 2004