Carnal Pain and Desires

Chapter 2

           

Reminiscing upon what society would consider sordid actions, I perhaps not. I'd look upon my very dearest. Frolicsome she was as she frisked and romped about in the vast fields of beautiful verdure, her dimpled leer, her cherubic face and bright lips through the stratum of radiance. She was wearing nothing but a light frock. I enjoyed her then, and so did I when we copulated. Her tingling tongue, bore itself the sensuality of a sharp and searing fire. Oh, how it burned my soul to tinder! We laid enraptured about the ample greenery, clasped onto each other under the silhouette of the fleecy clouds with which emitted a faint radiance. She waddled about in the rapture of our moment (Oh, how blissful she looked!). That "elusive, shifty, soul-shattering, insidious charm" of my phallus inside her, I shall never forget! How I kissed the trembling firm smoothness of her naked body then. I had redeemed her from the prospects of the ill-natured, the spiteful. How I had saved her! The virtue of my love she held in her palms, itself yearning to explode in the spur of the vigour.

Now I stand in the pasture where the reverie of ours took place. She and I, we were entwined, interlaced together in the myriad of yellow celandines, their unfolding buds. That ardent moment brought by a sort of conflagration, burning about my loins. It was my voluptuousness that yearned like a bubble of poison, blazoning to enjoy the most electrifying, the most juvenile, the most thrilling. Oh! That pre-nubile breasts that I had love fondling, that quivering sense of ethereal ecstasy you acquire in the midst of her cry for joy. She, my little princess. She was herself the reason I lived, or ever have lived, or ever will live. Hasteth to the place where everything began, my salvation she was. The puerile manifestation of her bosom, that incomprehensibly supple lithe of her torso that would palpitate as I kissed again, and again