The Monsoon
The twilight is at your doorstep and so is the piercing cold. The coal bonfire may be comforting, but the warmth of a woman touching your senses waking up your covetousness, making it rise like the high tide is the decisive pleasure you need to savor.
Once you met her with a pledge and tried, but stripped yourself by anticipating a lot. Before you attained your high it was wrecked in the turbulence that concealed your happiness. You walked away like a wounded snake. The heat and the aggravation never left you to reconcile. The man in you constantly accused you of being less and inept. You felt deficient. A form of cold weather hailed in your life and masked you.
It was your call to me that altered everything. That night you felt as a spring and you never sought to go. Your sense organs had a form of true fulfillment. You lavished in my lap and every craving you had was met that night. You still ponder that night in memories of the moment you were with me.
This ravishing devotee is still a call away, where I can surmount and completely submit. The day of fantasy you can still keep in your luscious reminiscence and never abandon all hopes.
The youth is a spring, why hesitate?
Just celebrate!
Brandi 250 371 0947
