The fantasy of a woman is her sacred garden, watered by her lustful honey, and giving birth to the flowers of Her heart. A woman’s fantasy is colorful and gentle, like the touch against her skin.
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A woman’s fantasy is about strength, still, it’s gentle. it is about hardness, still, it is so lovingly soft.
She treasured the mornings. The aroma of the fresh bakery, the smell of the hot coffee, the touch of the rising sun over Her skin. The smile of Her Lover as He hugged her close, kissing Her in such a way that settled fire between Her silky thighs.
She loved the way He got turned on, and the way He turned Her on.. and She loved the quick, hungry sex followed after. The mornings were the best.
When she woke up, it felt like if her dreams came true, following her to the real world. Like an echo from her mind, things turned real when He stepped into the room.
Her loins still hot from her sensual dreams, she wasted no time to pull Him into her soft clad, making him part of the echo of her dream.
She knew well that exposing herself to someone has its dangers, but she didn’t mind. She trusted Him with the full of her heart, loved Him.
With Him, she felt safe, even when being defenseless, exposed, nude. Like a river, Her love flew through her, cradling Her on the waves of sensuality. she was exposed, but she was safe.