The slow hard carefree sound of her breathing
breaks the foxtail of morning. Her hand slide
over her smooth skin as her breast rise and fall.
The busy flutter of her eyes are hidden still and
she speaks out to answer some dreamed
phantom that only her ears can hear. The
shimmer of sun light slowly glides over her
body...feeling every curve of it...and with a
smile, she wakes
By Ace Talkingwolf
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