Morning His eyes slowly rest upon the crimson dawn. With lids ajar and the soft pant that slowly curls around the tip of his tongue and up to the roof of his mouth; bitter sweet musk that softly lies at the bottom of his breath – a constant reminder of the previous day, and one that felt all the more distant. She kissed him softly on the lips, and parted with her eyes closed and dreaming of this new day. A second of sheer beauty passes him, like the delicate and fragile descent of a silk handkerchief, dropped from the last strand of a velvet cloud. He stares attentively at her, yet she continues to gaze out along the blackened skyline of her lids. She ushers the corners of her lips upwards, and gleams as the tiny sparkles from the harbour transcends to her, now open, eyes. ‘Goodbye,’ she says, and I spread my eyes open. Goodbye. - L. A. Matthews
Hmm so no raw sex action then? no arse bobbing up and down like a jackhammer? actually its a good peice of work very sensitive
LA, I hope more people will see your writing, and be inspired to try creating a short scenario. If you could give some advice to any young artists here, what would it be? I like the way you don't just post anything. Your work, the words you use, the descriptions you make, show that careful thought has gone into its construction. I notice that you come from Wales which is renowned for its picturesque villages and countryside. Do you feel influenced by your environment, does it help a writer to unlock his/her imagination?
