|
Black Ice
Warm, still so warm.
Again I run my hand to where it has been so many times before, and I cannot
believe that he still can abide the touch. But abide it, he does, folding
himself around me, holding me to him, and wanting, yearning.
And how can I tell him no, not even when every touch of mine is like ice. He
never minds that, lost in his memories, and feels my touch as it was once,
long ago, when we were so happy. It is enough for him, and he moans, and
calls me his love, his own.
Feedback
BACK to Vignette Index
BACK to Fanfic Index
BACK to Main Page |