I heard her whispered call in the night – soft, gentle, yet with an urgency. Rising (not knowing if I was awake) and walking towards her, I glimpsed my vision of the night.
Shimmering, almost translucent, she beckoned me to herself, placing her finger on my lips. She placed my hands on her breasts; I felt her desire peaking beneath my hands. Cupping my face with her fingers, we kissed. Passion bloomed with intensity. Her scent washed over my fingers as I caressed her petals.
I carried her to the bed, where flowers bloom, but once a year.
