What is the difference between survival and progression?

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datatime: 2022-10-06 11:51:16 Author:hIgCDzYM

And you were the last thing, she breathed into my ear, her hands clawing gently at my back.You were the last thing she saw. How good that was for her.

Those things preserve, I said,but you make the beauty.

Let me see you without your clothes, she said. She reached for buttons, but I gestured there was no need. I stood up and back from her.

I kissed the calves of her legs, her thighs. The garden rustled and sighed behind me. For the first time I heard a waterfall, its gentle trickle, and then I listened to the sound of water touching leaves, but my body was an engine of desire, and what drove me was her naked breasts, rather small, with the pink nipples of a girl, and the smell of death, rising sweet like a crushing lily. It was not that the death attracted me; it was that it made her all the more precious, something to be lost in a moment.

It worked even more swiftly and completely than last time.

It's all drugs, my love, she said, as though feeling my wonder. She kissed my beard, kissing it along the bone of my jaw.It's hormones and modern science; I have a woman's chemicals inside me, that's all. They can make me look young, but they can't save my life.

She lay back, heaving a deep sigh. The angles of her face were tight and delicate and precise in the dimness.

She sat up on the bed, her breasts amazingly firm, and the pink nipples turned up. Her silver-and-black hair made a rumpled mass down her back and displayed a long neck.

A rain of doubts descended on me.

And you were the last thing, she breathed into my ear, her hands clawing gently at my back.You were the last thing she saw. How good that was for her.

It worked even more swiftly and completely than last time.

But I had to do it. What was the point of warning her that I might dissolve in the process? I was going to do it.

She drew back, staring at it. I told this hair to go away.

It was like fruit between her legs, like peaches or plums, it was just wet enough. I brought my fingers to my nostrils.

No, she said.Bring it back I couldn't quite figure this out, why the hair had come of its own, but that was the whole story so far, my body came on its own, and in its own form. One lapse in my will, one drifting into pride in my physical self, and the hair had come.

It was like fruit between her legs, like peaches or plums, it was just wet enough. I brought my fingers to my nostrils.

Well, she loved it. I took a long breath, feeling the toll of all this changing and magic, but I was as hard as a statue for her. I wanted to pounce on her. Instead I let her bury her face in the hair of my chest, and kiss my nipples, and the pleasure went right to my loins.

She drew back, staring at it. I told this hair to go away.

She drew back, staring at it. I told this hair to go away.

It worked even more swiftly and completely than last time.

I took her breasts in my hands, enchanted by their smallness, their delicacy. So pink, girlish pink.

I sat down beside her, embracing her. I felt the moist thin silkiness of her skin, not healthy in a woman too thin, yet delicious. Even the bones of her wrists were beautiful.

It was like fruit between her legs, like peaches or plums, it was just wet enough. I brought my fingers to my nostrils.

A savage strength rose in me, the realization that I had her completely at my mercy, this precious creature, and that no words from anyone could command me away from her. Only her words would hold sway with me now, and only because I would defer to her.

Well, she loved it. I took a long breath, feeling the toll of all this changing and magic, but I was as hard as a statue for her. I wanted to pounce on her. Instead I let her bury her face in the hair of my chest, and kiss my nipples, and the pleasure went right to my loins.

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