Territory

If she was a cloud, she’d be a storm cloud and she’d rain hard constant sexuality. Her lips were pouted, poised naturally in anticipation of a seductive, gasping encounter. Her hair was that intense blonde, the colour that invoked cliched comparisons to the sun. Appearing light and wistful but strong enough to bear, in the heat of the moment, the begged, playful pull.

Her eyes were delicately made with powerful accentuation. They were playfully damned and you felt their controlling power even with a fleeting glance. Her supple cleavage plunged into a deep soft valley. It made you envious to consider the journeymen who had ventured previously into that bountiful territory.

She saturated all those beneath her with the deafening rain of her sexuality. It all seemed to occur so naturally, you couldn’t help consider if she found it a burden. With all that she appeared, she wasn’t the girl you’d marry, wasn’t the type you’d take to meet your parents, but she certainly was one hell of a weekend.

Territory

terry springett

Joined January 2008

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