woman’s arousal

I began to discuss the results of our work, the prototypes we had undertaken, the success we had with those embodiments. Ellen leaned back on the sofa, comfortably. I paused, but she insisted I go on. The wrap fell loose, exposing the blue bottoms of her bikini between her lean, tan thighs. I swallowed dryly. The scent of a woman’s arousal, the spiced musk of passion, suffused the cool air. Ellen scratched an itch at the blue fabric’s edge.

Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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