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Time To Write #3


Verdant forest paths wind up gentle hills, down lazily. She walks in solitude, musky smell of trees, undergrowth sighing pungent perfume. Writing notebook's tucked underarm, inspiration from the magical paths, majestic trees. She settles on the edge of a stump, overlooking a crystal clear stream, legs dangling midair. Opening her notebook, words bubble like the stream, syllables dangling on tongue's tip. But instead of writing, she finds herself aroused again. Serenely arches her back, unbuttoning her shirt, breeze carressing her breasts. Legs akimbo, her fingers crawl between her legs, sliding curiously into damp curves. Obsessed by her own seductive body.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Alex Munro almost 7 years ago

    Well who can write with such distractions? Very evocative, and exquisitely written.

  • avatar

    Horrorshow almost 7 years ago

    Still one of my favourite writers here, SGB. I must follow you in the forest some time! x

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