As the Story Becomes Yours

Artist Knute Munson;

My words, ravishing and intoxicating, wash over your body like the passionate massage of vivacious fingers, as your heart swells and your mind ingests the delectation.

The lovers in the story you read find one another searching, longing, lustful, and aroused.

When they find each other, they embrace in sweltering desire, their bodies writhing in rhythm with each other, manliness and femininity enfolding in blissful lovemaking.

Goosebumps and tingles of craving tip tap like raindrops over your skin, your tongue saturating your lips, your mind poised to take the story from there.

When Love Fondles the Heart

Artist Ed Tadiello;

Soft and tender were my words, my breath, my warmth that fondled her heart and enveloped her soul.

“Of all the women in the world tonight, none come close to you, my love,” I respired like fingers on a piano that touched all the right keys, “in perfect beauty and elegance, in suppleness and style.”

A delicate kiss on her ear followed my romantic rhetoric of love, revealing how much she meant to me on this date, sparking the flame that burned deep within us both, yearning to break free.

“Don’t stop,” she replied with eyes closed and a salacious moan, “let me hear it again.”

Our Night is Young

Artist Frank Frazetta;

It was a warm summer night, the cool evening breeze tickling your skin, wafting under your sheer purple nightgown… as you waited.

And then I appeared and with unrelenting seduction, you grasped my hand and drew me into yourself, our bodies crushing to one another, heat transferring like a sulfuric geyser springing forth from volcanic earth.

And then I kissed you and my hands caressed the place that drives you wild as utterances like the moaning and howling of a wolf escaped your lips.

Lightly biting my lower lip, you growled as I drew your leg up to my hip, my hand sliding along your velvety thigh as my mouth breathed hot into your ear, “This night, my love, has only just begun.”

Boundless Dreams and Desires

Artist George Garland;

It was a long arduous ride across the western plains by carriage – days even – but they only felt like minutes with ravishing Verbena at my side.

Somewhere along the way, I must have been chattering about our dreams, a ranch house with horses and children and a future we could build on, and that’s when she turned and pressed her mouth to mine.

Her soft lips felt like the gentle lapping river forging a ravine through a dense forest of pine, smooth and warm and full of life, arousing in me my deepest desire to have her.

As passion flourished and her fingers tore through my hair, I stopped the carriage in the middle of an open valley, the sky like our future wide open before us, and I knew that for now, our dreams could wait.

You’re early

Artist Ernest Chiriaka;

Languidly and licentiously Fuchsia applied ruby lipstick and puckered in the mirror, her heart hammering in her chest.

Her lover would be here soon, and she found herself lightly panting in anticipation and expectation, not necessarily from where they were planning to go, but rather what they were planning to do there.

In a flash, she barely had time to gasp, sensing his presence suddenly behind her, feeling his strong hands caressing her warmth and his lips pressing to her neck.

Fuchsia clutched to the dress that she had meant to put on for their date, covering only her front, whispering with euphoric realization that he was actually here, “You’re early, my love!”

Romantic Japan

Lovely ladies posing under a sakura (cherry blossom) tree.


Charmed by this darling woman’s sakura tattoo. 😉

It was my first time in Tokyo. Stereotypes of a crowded, bustling city of sardine-packed commuter trains and smog-polluted air were crushed the instant I laid eyes on her beauty. It was in her distinctly Japanese culture where I discovered her hidden treasure. Her radiant smile, her genuine charm and courtesy, her gentle demeanor, her graciousness in all things truly captured my heart. She stood before me like a giant city, but in her simple, orderly ways, her green trees, sunshine, and deep blue skies, she held a serene beauty unmatched anywhere on earth.

Was there a romantic story hidden within her alluring heart? Absolutely. To you, I will return, to draw out your delightful wealth, to uncover the mystery of what is purely you, purely exquisite, a story that will capture others’ hearts and charm them as you have charmed me.

Under the Cherry Trees

Artist Preston Blair;

Romantic 4-line flash fiction:

Fresh air teemed with inexorable life as a cool mountain spring wind tossled Celosia’s honey blonde hair.

As the cherry blossoms dotted the landscape pink against an azure afternoon sky, my shoes crunched gravel as I meandered beside her along the path with my fingers interlaced with hers.

“This is it,” I said, drawing her to myself, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, my lips a hair’s breath from hers.

“Don’t let me go,” Celosia pleaded breathlessly, a tiny tear trickling down her cheek, as our lips met and warmth flooded my soul, my heart aching for her to stay.

Author’s note: I’ll be heading to Japan this weekend in search of cherry blossom trees. Perhaps there is a romance story lingering there beneath the cherry trees, waiting for just the right moment when an author may happen by and capture a slice of romantic magic.