A pot of Earl grey in the afternoon sun.
It would seem my dearest love must remind me of a time past, when a youth we shared brought about a love worthy of eternity.
When we came upon each other on a Summer's day, a day when ocean's flowed throughout our souls as we intertwined our bodies and succumbed to the overwhelming lust that could no longer be controlled by sheer will. When we tasted with sheer delight the pure pleasure that we had fought against for too many summer's days.
Smiling she took a breath, as the passion with the ocean almost brought a gasp of pleasure. She watched him now; does he ever recall that summer? Does he indeed wish to turn back the clock one last time and writhe freely in the stable tasting each other and joining souls so deliciously with immense pleasure?
Oh; how perfect. How completely perfect a time when love was all that mattered.
More tea my dear?
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