Grace.

I recommence our tale of erotika due to the fact that, at the moment I don’t have your compelling intro. Let us picture ourselves on a train moving towards the Greek islands. As we’re in the restaurant cart seated opposite each other sipping a magnificent 89 Cabernet Sauvignon trading sensual enticing looks as your feet gently caress my timid nonetheless receptive intimacy. A waiter with a moustache extending an inch both ways indicates that they will be closing in a short while. “Go to the room, I’ll sort this out.” The lady leaves in a provocative way whilst the gent elegantly removes his wallet from his coat. When he arrives at the opulent, graceful room fit for kings and concubines she lays across the bed with her never ending naked body, nothing but a pair of long black satin gloves she uses to cover her breasts, one leg pulled up with the other spread over the bed calling for lust. Desire, passion and synergy roam in the atmosphere as a scent, feelings transformed into matter. As he takes in this beautiful life he lives he makes his way to the placid face of his lover. She smiles and grabs his cheekbones embracing him in her frailty. The moments in the after are of an intensity too farfetched and immense to put to words. Only in actions can this be measured. An hour of leisure and enclosure awaits…