"The meadow's sweet seclusion tempted them once too often."
Like Dorothy and her friends, they had strayed from the path onto a bed of the brightly coloured flowers. But it was no mistake.Though gripped by a strange urge to lie down, it wasn't sleep that called them. Instead, they...
Our bodies perfuming and warming the near dark of your room with our afterglow. We were watching a movie we'd seen countless times, the one where an old flame promises that they'll always have Paris.We were already making love before...
I pulled her down onto the ground in the expansive field of poppies.This would be a perfect backdrop.I asked her to take her top off. She complied, seductively, as I began to snap.The beautiful orange poppies contrasted perfectly with her pale...
I stand quietly watching him.Smiling as a devilish thought comes to mind, I grab an ice cube from his drink and kneel in front of him. Looking at him, a devious smile on my face, I place the ice on his...
"A lover remembers."
I come here every day and remember that distant summer.It will forever be ours.We talked, read, ate and drank. We shared, and discovered each other.And we loved. Oh, how we loved! In that idyllic meadow, we joined and found an...
"We were connected, together like we hadn’t been before."
You breathe out, I breathe in.The poppies around us smell like cherry blossoms and cocoa. My knees root me to the ground. I’m staring into your eyes and you gaze back at me. I’m lightly caressing your cheek. Your cock...
Such odd flowers, writhing like stormy clouds until nectar glistens. Still, though spoilt we lie, shadowed and mangled beneath them, a beautiful color of petal they have: sunset and sunrise blushed with dew.Our color!But Mother Gaia, what flower drops its...
“There’s no debate, woman. Sit quiet, lean back, and let me untangle them curls.”“Are you mocking my locks?” Three gilded rings sway in fragrant patchouli when she shifts.Forcing his middle finger down the warm bareness between her shell-adorned, reddish-brown tresses...
"I regret nothing!"
Poppy fucking in a field of poppies, irony of ironies. At least it was to me. My love interest, though love was a bit strong a word, but there she was enjoying a romp with the one "friend" I mentioned...
"A veteran revisits his past"
He walked across Flanders field. His type writer heavy in his has hands. The pain and memories filled his soul as the red poppies swayed around him.She walked towards him, picking poppies for her village. Neither spoke as they looked...
