newborn nakedness

“Do what suits you,” I instructed her. “I want to explore your motions and reflections. Be yourself.” At once, she lifted the shift over her head. I grabbed a brush and impressed my page with the flush of her pale skin, following the lines of her hips, the bulge of her young belly, the curves of her full bosom. My strokes flew furiously, anxious to capture every moment of her newborn nakedness. Iris turned and continued the pacing.

Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov

About Lord Malinov

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