Tracy Daniels
resides in the ghetto of Bridgeport, Connecticut. He was inspired to record
memories of his lover. He used to work second shift jobs just so he could
meet her while her husband worked during the day. They rendezvoused in
The Village frequently, and she loved to read erotica to him as they lay
naked at Saint Marks. Mind Caviar is pleased to announce this is
Tracy Daniels' fiction debut.
Interlude
(a
vignette)
If
anything, it was her eyes, they danced like gentle ballerinas. Yes, the
eyes caused me to fall in love-- so
innocent,
so delicate, so wildly erotic. They absorbed my loins in an instant, excited
me, caused my hardness to wrestle my jeans, made me spill ejaculate down
my thigh. She, in turn, felt similarly. I discovered this as she held herself
open, lips parted, nectar glistening. Our bodies wept to mesh. Contours
and crevices needed the attention of our fingertips. Lips, tongues, holes
to be filled, protrusions to be sucked, licked, nibbled. She craved the
touch of a gentle princely hand. I offered the slams and violent thrusts
of animal passion. She teased my senses. I tortured her with beastly demands.
We met somewhere in between.
Copyright ©
2003 Tracy Daniels. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post.
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