Southern Kisses, Northern Practicalities
The red of her lips matched the burning tip of my lullaby cigarette glowing hot in the encroaching twilight of our day. The smell of her sweaty sex, so recently defiled and satisfied, married itself to a cool evening breeze tickling the mountaintop. The caress of a strong hand, so deceptively delicate in appearance, shared more than just the last of the day’s cigarettes with me. And it sparked the insatiably of my passions all over again. Her words tempted the appetite of my critical intellect. The beautiful disaster of her catastrophically tousled hair tickled my fancy. The shadowy outline of her compact form, casually leaning against the front porch rail, tempted the fire of my seductive demons so ravenously hungry to relish in the warmth …
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