Erotic Tales for the Visual Woman

  I believe I believe in making music, I believe in making love,   I believe in the power of poetry,   All my beliefs require others  in order to be strong and ring true.  And every exhibitionist needs a watcher. I believe I'll have another glass of wine the accompanying photo is from my archive.   The temps have been between -20F and zero all week.  I'm wimping out getting all naked until it warms up.  

  On senses Winter in the woods of the far north means short daylight hours and long cold nights.   I took advantage of one of these nights to play around with some words, images and well, whatever else popped up.   In the dark I look for It.  finding It, I unfold Its curled  length and inspect It with  light fingertip touches. smooth soft skin firm head, slightly moist It trembles at my touch. I squeeze hard, feeling It's pulse  throb in my hand. The beat quickens in anticipation. sliding my hand down It, I feel a tremor in my legs they go weak, ready to submit. It answers. With a twitch aided by its newly solid state It wants friction and searches wildly frustrated by my slippery fingers It pushes and thrusts upwards  wildly stabbing at air. It needs  the release of surrounding skin wrapping It in heat  and matching   It's need to join.