Opening the terrace doors, the thunder’s reverberation rolls through the room. Threads of falling water glint a skein of gold in the candle light.
I turn to you, stretched out on burgundy velvet, bound with black silk cords, skin glowing white with a marbling of palest blue.
Your low, pleading moans caress my ears. I can see your want, your need, seeping already.
How shall I take you tonight? The long, aching tease? The swift, driving thrust?
Contemplating the ash on my cigar, an idea comes to mind.
I take a sip of brandy and move to your side.
