From the original article on July 31, 2007. Author: Chateau Heartiste.
according to a girl whose opinion I value.
Set the scene. A man is returning home after having been away for months, maybe years, sacrificing his body in war or his comfort in third world charity work. He is scarred from his experiences but has kept the memory of his lover close throughout his ordeal, giving him the strength and willpower to complete his mission and fulfill his duty to his principles. All he could think about during his lonely nights that stretched into lonely weeks without end was the face of his lover. Sweating under a hot sun and surrounded by suffering he had imagined her soft kisses and the light touch of her fingertips. In moments of despair he visualized himself home, racing into her arms, lifting her up as her hair tumbled around them.
But now, the reality is even sweeter than his dreams. They rush into each other, kissing until they are short of breath, grasping and clenching so tightly there isn’t a shard of daylight between their pressed bodies. He carries her into bed, his hunger from months of forbearance suddenly released in a cataclysm of desire, his heart pounding so hard she can feel it through the sheets which have twisted into knots between them. Overcome by his lust, she falls back and lets him soak her in. She has never felt more feminine. To be loved so absolutely that every worry vanishes and happiness shrouds her in serenity makes her feel almost ashamed. They drift off in bliss.
Me, personally... I like it on top of the kitchen counter.
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