The Midnight Dancer 1
Cool and crisp, with a hint of desire.
Desolate spaces, decrepit, derelict; a watchers paradise.
A proffered hand, an invitation into the abyss.
A gift of anticipated pleasure.
A dark path, void of moonlight, the dancers enter the realm.
Buttons defeated.
Skin exposed, her dress slips.
Her underwear, contrasting the depth of nights camouflage.
Revealed.
A honing beacon.
Attracting movement from afar
Guided, the touch of her dancer, brings her to her knees.
Serving her lover, taking all he has to offer, as the watchers enter their domain.
The sweet taste of flesh. Lips pressed against him softly.
Ebb and flow of power against her tongue, he turns her head.
A presentation that excites them all.
Taking her hand, he leads her to the ruins of a once beautiful place.
A calm space, lapped by the lake and lays her down.
The widening of her legs offers the watchers an invitation to view the pleasure she may allow.
The strangers hands, become one with her body, desirous, wanton.
Her carefree nature, trust in the dancer, demands their participation as she takes parts of them.
One by one as others touch.
Her.
Them.
Each other.
An embodiment of souls.
A primal need.
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