I walk out into the night, wearing black, a shadow in the shadows. You’re waiting for me, not far away, lingering in the murky hinterland of the dreamscape. I seek you out, calling some veiled greeting into the darkness. Your shadow joins mine, merges like indigo ink. The moon is rising and I take your hand.
“Come with me.”
I feel like a wicked temptress; Circe luring Odysseus. My house is like an island in the gloom.
In my bedroom, a candle burns, reflected by a mirror. I kiss you and the falling sensation begins, a soft inward spiral. Your mouth tastes faintly of fruit and I suck your tongue. Your mouth mesmerizes me. Your lips are like the wings of a moth flirting with a flame; they brush my flesh with an adept delicacy that makes me arch my spine.
Never before like this…
We undress and you tell me I have lovely skin. I lie, like a white fox, snared by desire. Already I am wet, a sweet viscous pool between my thighs. Your mouth on my neck makes me writhe, an exquisite torture. I push my fingers through your hair and it slides, thick, dark and silky, sensuous.