Story #8

She turned her head so that her golden hair flied across what seemed to be the room and the eternity. Knowing exactly when to start, and when to stop, she had the whole eternity in her hands. Soft, gentle hand which felt like silk, or more like the gentlest stroke from a rose petal. She seemed to be the perfect being with so much power – yet to be completely herself. I just wanted to take around her, for that, and for a lot more.

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