Like putting your hands in a thick, warm jar of non-sticky honey; The magic of such a natural sweetness. The blood, so deep it is purple, feels familiar. As your hand wallows in the liquid warmth, you understand the safety. The gentle surge and drop of life stirs your heart in a peaceful, sleepy way. And you beam.
Fingers flex to breach the expanse of depth. I can feel the tiny Bean and hear the voice of something sweet. My heart expands. I roll over now, extracting my hand from the warm, gooey place; unfurling my fingers from around you.
My eyes blink open one-at-a-time, my lips pumping with red energy. I see you smiling back at me, with your soul wrapped around the soft, lumpy pumping of my deepest heart. Fused into life, I collide with you time-and-again. Whispering like the wind. Always known now, forever.
Everything changes and that truth forever remains. Ineffable. Being, so warm and sticky like non-sticky honey. Clutched between my milky skin and the shape of my thighs, I let you slide...
Good luck.
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