Letters to the Moon

Letters to the Moon

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, May 30, 2021
Penelope wrote to David. A lot and often when he would not even suspect that he was in her thoughts. He was heavy on her mind and deeply rooted in her heart and she has not even seen him yet. Separated by the distance, the age and the plague, she poured her heart to him, secretly hoping that one day, he would see her as she is.
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Highest ranking #1 in utopia -•- "It's about how your hips move," the hand that sits on my waist finds my hip, his fingertips trailing lightly along the fabric of my skirt. "When you arch your spine," he continues on, letting that same hand migrate, his fingertips resting against that central dip of my back before running upwards with the most gentle firmness. I crane away from the touch which leaves sparking heat in its wake, only forcing me further into his chest. "It's about sexual euphoria." His travelling hand finds my neck, cupping it lightly. "What are you doing?" I ask him, hardly coherent. He leans down, once more letting his warm breath fan over the shell of my ear. "Making a move." He tells me plainly. My breath, in response, catches. "You are awfully bold." I find myself saying. "You don't get anywhere without confidence Allora." -•- Allora has known nothing but wealth and good fortune. Born into high levels, she's surrounded with maids and butlers, with expensive clothes and jewellery. Her world is one she enjoys. That is, until she meets a boy. An insatiable flirt with a charming smile and brazen attitude. Then, worlds collide. -•- Undergoing slow grammatical editing Some mature language and themes Sickly sweet & tragic (you've been warned)

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