Remember Xanga? December 26, 2005
I dream of an orange painted room with a distressed green four drawer dresser, black futon bed, Asian lanterns, candles, and bettas swimming in bamboo. Steamy room with a wicker fan blowing overhead, the sun streaming through ivory cotton lace curtains onto a girl in satin, bare legs exposed. Waves of long hair tickling bare shoulders as her husband takes it all off and flings it aside.
Those sexy blue eyes of his staring down at me and taking me in. Me taking in the sight of him. And knowing I will love him forever and he me.
We’ll stumble to the kitchen when we’re done, on an orgasmic high, and eat finger foods and leftovers, preparing for another round.
Anakalian Whims 
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