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A SLAVES UNDYING ADORATION

Can I even do the image frozen in my mind’s eye the justice it deserves with words? I am compelled to try. The word that comes to mind is “perfection”. Tall, and strong looking, yet soft and feminine. Every inch of her, from head to toe, is an artful statement of power, sexuality and beauty.

After the whole is taken in I try to focus on specifics. Her eyes are my secret weakness, from a time when I could still keep weaknesses a secret. They are fierce and penetrating dark orbs that hide so many tempting secrets. Angled like a devil’s, her eyebrows curve wickedly. They suck me in to their darkness. Here alone, I could be reduced to a grunting, snarling and mindless thing. Her eyes, they are the dinner bell, and I am the dog.

Eventually I am given permission to break the gaze and let myself leave deep and dark pools, framed beautifully by wicked brows, high cheekbones and shiny hair and my vision doesn’t roam far before it is again helplessly focused on another perfection. Her full lips. Without touching I know I cannot withstand their flavor. If one were to be worthy, and walk before they run to those slices of pleasure, one must first climb Everest… one must cross the Antarctic… and still those who survive may not yet be worthy. In some years a man will have been to Mars and I could still out boast him if for a second those lips touched mine. Oh the tastes I would savor the scents I could inhale in that second. The only aromas that out-do her carefully selected perfumes are the ones that belong to her flesh already. Forget the worlds of Mars and Jupiter, let me explore this Goddess’s mouth once.

The skin holds no flaw, no bump, and no blemish. Once upon a time I looked at something and could see the beauty in its flaws; for I believed then nothing could be flawless. Then I saw her and my world shattered. If my hands could roam the perfect, Mediterranean softness of her skin for a moment, I don’t believe I could keep them from shaking. Goddess, please find me worthy somehow.

The slender neck is the gateway to further glory. Must savor every part of it, on my way to envision more awe inspiring greatness. Full and perfectly formed breasts… perfect, firm… the perspiration that forms and collects between them is nectar. The warmth they hold from the efforts of her heart behind them could melt any man or woman. She is not sensitive, but she is hot despite her cold ways.

My eyes are drawn further down a treasure trail that is on her flat belly and somehow more enticing aromas fill my mind and hands yearn to grip the flesh of her round ass as I let my lips touch and dare to let teeth nibble at the flawless torso of the unattainable. Past her divine button, but I must stop. For what is beyond must be forbidden. Even in the fancy of mental wanderings what lies next… I am not accomplished enough to touch. No I couldn’t even be allowed to slake my thirst for the sweetness that comes from her. I crave… I want to dare. I know there is ecstasy in its purest form. Between her legs is forbidden the root of all desires. From there all the secrets of Heaven, Earth and Hell and the desires beyond what mortals can attain… in there is the root of all lust, all desire, all passion, all determination, and all ambition. I am compelled to move past it, as if it were staring into the Holy Arc of the Covenant.

Long, sexy and strong legs are a vision to rival Patagonian Terraces. Desires to map their perfection with my lips and hands are overwhelming. At their end are more examples of perfect, for though I am not a foot-man, looking upon them, I now see what inspires one to become such.

As I am reduced to a blathering and confused idiot, with only the drives of beasts running through my head, I look back to this Bitch-Goddess, a succubus in flesh, and I see another beauty. The smile so beautiful. She grins wide at my defeat to her perfection.

 

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