Monday, February 16, 2009


As she sits out in the pale, fading moonlight her nipples strain against her shirt. Aching to be touched. To be fondled. Licked. Sucked on.

The breeze barely blows, but she feels it the most between her legs. The coolness of it as it brushes her hair and touches her lips.

"please?" she whispers to the night.


  1. What an amazing picture you paint with such a few words. Love it!

  2. damn
    short and sweet, and very descriptive.

  3. Beautiful...I'm really loving this microfantasies that everyone's writing these days. There's something precious about a smattering of words painting such a lovely image...

    Miss you - hope you're feeling better!


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