Sometimes a girl loses her way; lost in being lost. It becomes her world.
Each touch painful.
And then, one so gentle, a brush of lips and finger tips from far away.
Promises.
Barefoot in a strange city.
Unsure of her welcome.
Scared to turn away from the door.
The soft padding of feet.
A look.
Leading.
A journey of a different kind.
Being made through love;
A conduit.
Naked for the first time in too long.
Vulnerable as she is shared.
Three become one.
She feels beautiful.
Cock filling emptiness.
Fingers brushing away fear.
Gentle acceptance, yes.
She finds herself.
