Peace

“Humans are, by far, the only insane creatures in this sane world,
 For animals do not commit suicide,
 And plants do not fight.”

-The Little Mermaid, MMXVI 

 

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A Taste Of The Forbidden Fruit (Part I) 

Evening lulled the reticient sun into sinking lower in the sky. Paul, who was already jaded after the mindless commotions of the party was too content to finally heave a sigh of relief as he hurriedly set off to take a peaceful riverside amble, barefoot on the cold, soft grass. The air was damp. He felt as free and alive as he could ever remember. Paul was really enjoying his much needed vacations on the island. 

As he sauntered leisurely down the lane, mentally planning some upcoming trips, his visionary artistic flair did not miss the vague silhouette he noticed in front of him. Picked by curiosity, he approached further in its direction only to discover that it was actually the silhouette of a woman. A rather gorgeous woman. Paul, who was now just a few yards away from her could exclusively see her back. Pity! Dressed in a casual ankle-length white dress on which there lay many specks of beautiful black stars; the woman was leaning far over the wooden fence, facing the river. The dress was perfect. It hugged her hourglass figure marvellously, accentuating her narrow waistline and exquisitely round-shaped arse. A shiver of arousal ran through him as he kinkily imagined feeling the tauntness of those fine cheeks on him. Her body spelt of summer holidays, which all the more convinced his unfailing intuition she was a native. 

No French mistress could compare to thy erstwhile beauty, mine Lady,
Lucky must be that she’r fabric f’r it caresses thy exotic skin incony.

Bless’d be the stars f’r they beholdeth thy sight,
I beseech thou to stayeth still, Oh Night.

Thee liketh the sweet f’rbidden fruit,
The m’re we art denied, the m’re we desire absolute.

But then, what is the ruleth f’r forbidden fruits?

He murmured, as he gazed in admiration at her attractive frame. Little did Paul realise that the whispers of his racing heart would echo into the placid stillness of the place. Slowly, she turned to face him. Their eyes met. 

Paul momentarily sucked in a breath because she looked utterly…not quite beautiful, since the term implied a set of criteria which needed to be filled and her looks were much too distinctive for that. But she had a definite head-turning quality that was almost difficult to define. Stunning, perhaps? And irresistible too. Bottomless. Divine. Esther was an ideally volumptuous made-up woman with big, lustful eyes, brows that were beautifully contoured and arched and with a long pointed nose. But that mouth and those lips? Made for kissing and for oral sex. Her long, wavy, black glorious hair complemented her flawless fair skin complexion. She wore no jewellery, no make-up-as if any was even needed for this youthful Venus surely brought up on nothing stronger than milk and honey. His gaze subconsciously shifted to her generous bosom, but he quickly blinked his way back to her eyes. Esther was perfection, yet intimidation. She exuded a whimsical air of mystery that somehow made her more alluring. 

Paul gallantly advanced closer to her, and she felt her full breasts tighten for a split second beneath the garments she wore. Esther was already being serenadated by this tall, magnetic debonair gentleman. He was styled in a plain navy blue long-sleeved shirt that was carefully tucked up to his elbows with a pair of dark, tailored slim-fit trousers. To complete the effortless fashion ensemble, he wore a luxurious watch which immediately made her think of those foreign brands- something like Bvlgari, Cartier or Tiffany & Co. The stoically built, lean man seemed more than twice her age with the pensive look on his handsome face, those golden soulful eyes that furtively probed every part of her body and with that soft deceptively charming smirk on his inviting lips. Paul had a few strands of silver hair, atypically evocative of wisdom, sophistication and confidence. It sent shivers down her spine just meditating on how powerful this man’s calm presence could be. She blushed a thousand shades of crimson. This was bad, but in such a good way.

(To be continued…)

*Image borrowed from Google