Monday, 11 April 2011


It had all been building up to this; this moment, this moment of exaltation. And there it was that final moan; that final delicate moan; such a sweet, sweet sound. A sound of pure joy; containing all the delight, the ecstasy, the pure rapture.

The face, the beautiful face, I stare at the face; the adorable twisted lips of satisfaction. The contortions of joy, that sweet, so sweet, grimace.

And then the twisting, turning subsides, become its normal sweetness, and just the satisfaction remains. Silent, still and peaceful.

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