Arabian Rose.
Finding myself lost in a lonesome desert, looking at the monotony of the scene, I decided there was nothing new to be had. The night fell upon, cold and silent, not dark at all, and my limbs gave up and my eyes closed down. I was awakened by the sudden push, probably the wind, probably not, I felt the embrace of a mysterious Arabian rose.
The night was suddenly over, as the flower embraced me. It wasn't just a flower but a whole shrub. Its arms around me; its soft leaves caressing my skin; its thorns were tender, like tiny hairs of gentle texture. Its touch was erotic, and its aroma was pungent and intoxicating. My senses were lost in a whirlpool of emotions: lust and love, as one.
It suddenly whispered to me, though I couldn't make out the words. They weren't really words, I thought, but pheromonal ideals; those sticky, salty feelings hitting my face, leaving it covered with a subtle film of desire. Touch me, it seemed to say, caress me. My fingers ran against the curves of the fuzzy stems, which twitched in pleasure and seemed to look back at me. I came face to face with the Arabian rose, hypnotized by the fragrance of sex oozing out in sweet honey droplets that I caught with my tongue. The slender stems wrapped around behind my neck; I caressed them as they slithered across my back.
Night came back as suddenly as it had left; and the Arabian rose disappeared leaving me alone in the desert, with its aroma lingering on my lips, its warmth lingering on my skin.
The night was suddenly over, as the flower embraced me. It wasn't just a flower but a whole shrub. Its arms around me; its soft leaves caressing my skin; its thorns were tender, like tiny hairs of gentle texture. Its touch was erotic, and its aroma was pungent and intoxicating. My senses were lost in a whirlpool of emotions: lust and love, as one.
It suddenly whispered to me, though I couldn't make out the words. They weren't really words, I thought, but pheromonal ideals; those sticky, salty feelings hitting my face, leaving it covered with a subtle film of desire. Touch me, it seemed to say, caress me. My fingers ran against the curves of the fuzzy stems, which twitched in pleasure and seemed to look back at me. I came face to face with the Arabian rose, hypnotized by the fragrance of sex oozing out in sweet honey droplets that I caught with my tongue. The slender stems wrapped around behind my neck; I caressed them as they slithered across my back.
Night came back as suddenly as it had left; and the Arabian rose disappeared leaving me alone in the desert, with its aroma lingering on my lips, its warmth lingering on my skin.