Ride the Wind If You Dare

Silken skin of palest cream, darkest brown hair now mostly snowy white sparkling with the electricity of the lightning storm, the shadows play, flirting, darting with the flashing. Eyes glow then are hidden in the dark. Moaning softly, almost singing, beckoning like a siren call of heat, the draped sheet slowly glides to the floor. A storm symphony of heat, desire. Come, my love, ride the wind if you dare. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw