Women. I love women. I adore women. Their grace. Their style. Their movements on high heels, floating on air, levitating, like birds flying in slow motion, anywhere they want to.
And her body. Yes. Ofcourse. Little green hills in a landscape which makes you want to touch. The grass, the clouds. The water. Her body, soft and moist, her skin, glimmering, her hair sleeping on her shoulders. Oh, how I love women. Her legs. Endless, elegant, staring at a man’s eyes, making promises, whispering, inviting him and rejecting him at the same time. Yes. Women.
Her character. Her soul. Open. Dedicated. Comfortable. Feeling welcome. Coming home. Always asking questions. The right ones. Making little observations. Sweet remarks. Distinct. How does she know? How does she always sense the urge of men? She’s able to touch my instinct, my impulse, and incite it, reminding me that nothing else matters.
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