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He Stood with hands in front

Posted by Susan47 on March 25, 2005, at 14:37:43

In reply to Dissipated, into the Ethereal, posted by Susan47 on March 18, 2005, at 12:57:10

Folded I think. Not arms, deliberately not arms, just the hands. And he watched. Carefully. Quietly, eyes speaking volumes. Voluminous eyes. Beautiful, beautiful man, wearing fuschia. The most beautiful, male fuschia; I was enchanted. And I raved, nerves exposed, pain at the fore.. and he had the courage to blush. Did he allow that, was it really courage? Or was it, as so much is, beyond his control? It was honest, a moment of honesty, a moment of bareness, naked emotion; I bared myself, laid myself open, but he did not feast. He gently folded me up, so that I could sleep that night.

I love you. You are more beautiful than you know.


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poster:Susan47 thread:472086
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20050315/msgs/475455.html