mischievous gust

Pale pink nipples fronted her chest, like lazy wide eyes reflecting each drunk patron’s stare, the dozen glazed expressions fixed between beery gulps. I imagined the girl in a yellow and white sundress, walking through the small park down the hill. She might smile just that way when the breeze lifted her dress lightly, a mischievous gust fought with china hands. I could tell her about the daisies, how they follow the sun.

Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances

Advertisements

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, quotes, reading, short stories, writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s