"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...
"They needed an escape, to each other."
They weren’t supposed to be together. He was a married man, and she was a friend’s daughter, home from college. Yet there they were, making love in a poppy field in the middle of nowhere.Sunshine beat down on her back...
"I'm not a delicate flower."
Désolée, Daddy. I didn't mean to spill the Cabernet all over your manuscript. I was having fun trying to tickle you. I know, dirty little sluts need to be punished from behind. But first, you'll have to catch me to rip off my panties.Come and...
"A poet in a poppy field was not expecting company."
The sun above me, the poppies below, and her in-between sublimates what I know. I came here to write; she came here to read. Instead we found something that both of us need.Her lips on my body. Her lust for...
"Their sweat-streaked bodies collapsed, slowly cooling in the hazy floral breeze."
Soft moans accompanied the slow trembling plunge onto his hard cock. Her labia stretched tight around his girth as his swollen head raked along her insides until she bottomed out.Strong hands grasped her bottom kneading her crotch to his. His...
"pop(py)ing a virgin again"
Staring at his thick erection, she raised her skirt and laid among the poppy flowers; grass tickling her pantiless bottom. Lifting her hips, he placed her feet on his shoulders.Eyes closed, she moaned aloud; he grunted. Vagina gripping his phallus, penetration deep...
She was beauty personified.“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trespass.”“You aren’t. Your name is?”“Orion, yours?”“Not the word, the meaning.”“Oh, it means great hunter.”“I’m Morning Star-Gendenwitha. Love me great hunter, our time is short.”It was perfect, she rode me like we’d...
"Jack and Marian work in the garden of their new dream home, deep in the pacific northwest."
Jack and I are working in the garden today. It’s so beautiful and such a relief to finally have our own place. Our own real place with land. It’s just a couple of acres, but between the trees and underbrush,...
As the poppies blink away one by one, I’m reminded that nothing lasts forever.Not the sky above or the meadow below. The words I’ve typed and read in the books spread around me, and the pictures I’ve captured with my camera…...
It took her forever to find him, the backpacker’s day off with the poppies. His American accent grated her father, as too his artistic soul and retro flare. Strutting into his picnic, she let him woo her with all that wasn’t...
