Mirasetta recalled basking in the late afternoon sun, covered in a passon-induced dew. Her lover, Tehrran, heald her in a embrace that clearly said that they needed nothing but the other’s touch.
Their relationship had allways been a rockey one and neither seemed to be able to stay away for long. When they had been appart, she had known the touch of other lovers. And since Mirasetta was a gentel spirit, incapable of any brand of deciet, she had afforded Tehrran such knowledge.
He hated the thought of other men touching her as intimatly as he had. He loathed the idea that Mira could have enjoyed their touches.
Mira’s body was increadible and her smile alone stired his blood. Happyness seemed to radiate from her sleeping form.
In a fit of jealousy, Tehrran had taken another lover to spite Mira. But that girl, though quite skilled in the art of love making, could never give him the pleasure that this woman in his arms could.
Dispite how open and honest Mira had been with him, he was reluctant to admit his mistake to this glorous goddess that he heald. He felt shamefull and unworthy but in his act of spite he had derived no pleasure. STo admit his fault, he reasoned, would be pointless. His concous would not let him rest however.
How could he, a lean, strong, confident man, lack the courage to admit his mistake to this one woman?Even if she seemed to be a goddess come to Earth?
Because, he reasoned, she was a Goddess of flesh, and she had the ability to love those she desires and punish those who are worthy of her wrath. He dared not provoke this Goddess’s ire.
No, he thought looking at the form of the sleeping woman who had an ethreal beauty, no, her love, deserved or not was too precous to risk.
Tehrran loves Mira more than words can describe, but one act of spite could destroy their relationship for ever. That is, if Mira ever finds out the truth.