Her hair smelled of camphor;
The exhaled air from her nostrils,
That of sandalwood;
The crimson blouse she wore
Emitted the fragrance
Of wild woodbine;
Or was it the scent of her body?
. . . . . .
She helped, to remove
The safety pins on her blouse;
The hooks behind the bra came off smoothly.
The nectar adhering to the alabaster buds,
When the lips pressed on to them
Kindled sweetness; while the tender hair
Above the navel in swirls, woke up in ecstasy.
Fingers sought, paving its way to the warm
Wetness of the holy of holies.
Her hands guided and her innards, in its
Recess, absorbed his masculinity.
Tinkling bells, exhilaration, mighty explosions,
Pandemonium; tense moments reaching
The pinnacle of euphoria and heavenly delights!
Then she said: ” I was waiting for this moment
Throughout my life; my femininity has
Now accomplished perfection and consummation.
Thank you, again and again for this moment.
Though married for several years
This is the first time I have tended myself,
Surrendering my virginity to you;
After a waiting for a long period of time,
Of sleepless nights and subdued sobs.”
At the zenith of the intrigue, time lost its meaning.
“This was the most avowed aspiration in my life.
There is sacredness,
And a sanctity for maidenhood,
When it is tendered or submitted
Along with your heart.
It attains a divine halo around it
And it is so divine, and heavenly
And the bliss you derive is so unique.”
Fingers and lips scrounged into the bodies;
A glow sparkled in her eyes,
That of the fizzy delights.
Lips quivered; pearls of sweat erupted over
The upper lips and thrusting breasts.
The rhythm of breathing rose into a frenzy.
In the moist caverns deep inside, passions awoke.
The vagaries of all the seasons glided into an
Eddy of schizophrenic lasciviousness.
Fission or fusion?
