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Scents . If there is one sense that overwhelms my self-control, it’s the wonderment of scent.
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Her long limbs keep flexing and stretching their way into my vision as I try my very best to salute the sun.
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“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” His deep voice immediately brings to mind the word sultry.
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I stand at his kitchen island, wearing his slippers and a white v neck tee.
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He shifts a little, rubs his unshaven chin. His glance flickers from the current speaker to my thighs, and back again. I try not to notice.
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Tendrils of hair dip into the water, and I slide down to submerge my breasts, enjoying the wet heat of the water.
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He, pacing backwards and around, trying to control the level of his voice and the strong urge he had to push her up against the brick wall a few metres away and kiss her passionately.
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The toast is warm and the butter melts quickly as I spread it slowly with the knife.
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Soul Journal 