Tag Archive | Vintage

Our Night is Young

Artist Frank Frazetta; pinterest.com

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.”

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Boundless Dreams and Desires

Artist George Garland; pinterest.com

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.

Kissing Belladonna

Vintage French Postcard; pinterest.com

Romantic four-line flash fiction:

Belladonna’s kiss was a magical voyage to a world that I only thought existed in illusory flights of imagination.

The instant our lips met, the spark of sheer passion, the blissful caress of our affections, shot through us like the flames of a roaring fire.

With our tongues voraciously dancing and interlacing, all I desired was to satisfy the thirst of her tired soul, forcing her with its sheer intensity to melt into the smoldering fire of my delicious consumption.

“I love you, Belladonna,” I whispered with warm, gentle breath on her ear, nibbling, caressing, my fingers touching her skin, our hearts exploding, our bodies sweltering with what we knew would come next.