Twisted down the Tale
By Cherry Agarwal
Picture courtesy - Flickr Creative Commons
...teased him and dodged him in the dimly lit room. The fragrance that filled the room effervescenced as wild passion from within. Her gauzy gown slipped over her shoulder revealing her bare body. Her glowing, grain- colored skin rippled in him the urge to hold her by the arms and kiss her with untaming....
Isabelle slid through his arms. She teased him and dodged him in the dimly lit room. The fragrance that filled the room effervescenced as wild passion from within. Her gauzy gown slipped over her shoulder revealing her bare body. Her glowing, grain- colored skin rippled in him the urge to hold her by the arms and kiss her with untaming intensity.
Mischievous Isabelle was arousing in him a deep seated desire. Just like waves that touch the shore, the silken palm caressed Yester’s bare skin. Delight expounded from each pore. His boxers hung at his lower waist. His hands held her in their ambience as he desired more. Her slender, polished nails dug into his back. The feel of those soft palms was like spasms to his body. Their bedroom was decored with etched glasses on the wall, wooden paneling on floors and blinds across the French windows.
Her hands had brought her immense luck. Her perfectly niched hands had brought her love as the Tarrot cards had predicted.
The trained hands moved stealthily as the veins strained and grip tightened on the vase. Silence. The breathing had stopped. Period.
Mischievous Isabelle was arousing in him a deep seated desire. Just like waves that touch the shore, the silken palm caressed Yester’s bare skin. Delight expounded from each pore. His boxers hung at his lower waist. His hands held her in their ambience as he desired more. Her slender, polished nails dug into his back. The feel of those soft palms was like spasms to his body. Their bedroom was decored with etched glasses on the wall, wooden paneling on floors and blinds across the French windows.
Her hands had brought her immense luck. Her perfectly niched hands had brought her love as the Tarrot cards had predicted.
The trained hands moved stealthily as the veins strained and grip tightened on the vase. Silence. The breathing had stopped. Period.
Cherry Agarwal - CEO cum Editor @ QW
#Pertinacious Writer
#Stubborn Journalist
#Communicator
#Budding Designer
#Wishful Entrepreneur
#Stubborn Journalist
#Communicator
#Budding Designer
#Wishful Entrepreneur
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