he always began with her shoulders. the skin there was a shade darker, more luminous, an intimation of her mysterious self. gently, BALONG pullled ORCHIDS shirt away and kissed her, breathing deeply to get the scent of her, enjoyng the firm response of her flesh, feeling the muscles quiver at his touch. he kissed her neck, the cusp of her jaw, and then, unable to wait any longer, he lay her down on the bed. she threw her arms above her head and narrowed her japanese eyes. it was a temporary capitulation, a tactical maneuver to lure him helter-skelter into her ambush. she moaned. aaahhh, sigi pa BALONG, sigi pa. esod ug maajo. aahhh. and he could feel himself falling into her, a boundless, head over heels plunge into a warm, velvety abyss.
somewhere within him he found the power to stop. he saw not just the sum of her beauty but the sum of herself staring back at him, her strength, her courage, her will. her humor, her obstinance, her frailty, her fear. she met his gaze, and her frank ardor roused in him a heady sensation, a cocktail equal parts respect, desire, honor and lust that he had come to recognize as love.
"BALS"
her voice was husky, ripe, unfulfilled. raising a hand to the back of his head, she ran her lithe fingers through his hair and pulled him to her.
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