Nature… A Man’sNature… A Man’s


For fifteen years he had lived alone on the edge of the national forest. He had nearly lost the place in the preceding years because of fires carelessly or deliberately started and once he’d lost the roof in a severe snow. Fortunately that week he’d left cabin to gather wood and while he was out he’d heard the thunderous crash as the roof gave way. It took him more than a week to clear out the damage and locate the sparse utensils he owned. He’d spent nearly two months replacing the roof and now the roof’s pitch and reinforcement were guaranteed to be adequate for any future storm.

Woodland creatures were his friends and nothing like the real people he’d left behind, but recently he’d meant someone different. She worked in town where he sometimes picked up the few outside supplies he ever needed. She, too was lonely he thought and he’d spoken to her. He was fluent no longer and his language skills were now marginal but he’d managed and she’d responded.

He’d walked eleven miles each way to see her once a week and their friendship blossomed. He’d learned about her failed marriages and some serious bahis siteleri ills that routinely plagued her, but she was genuine. She liked work and was good in home skills as well. Best of all, after awhile, he’d decided that he liked her because she liked him. Now he’d had choices to make.

Can a man live alone and not desire? Can he be a lone cabin in a secluded forest? Fierce mountain creatures patrol the mountain and the gentle doe feeds on soft green grass outside his door. He opens the door to watch before venturing out. He’s cautious and hopes his approach will not frighten or drive away. The doe raises her head, her ears and sniffs the air. In his hand he holds a clump of the fresher grass from the stream’s edge and extends it toward her. She pauses and looks around cautiously and seeing no concern she reaches forth and he feels her nose nuzzle his hand as she accepts.

How must a lady feel who has been lashed by life’s lasting storm, faced abuse, neglect and rejection? The storm has passed and she is cold and wet from its fury, but she looks up and sees the sun. Her body warms and her canlı bahis siteleri tattered clothes dry, and soon she feels renewed and begins to care. She toils at each chance and develops her talents and strives to achieve, rejecting the next storm before it arrives. Her body matures and her beauty survives in soul and face. She embraces life for the first time.

Can two people meet and join? Can they enjoy and love? Is there more than sex to union? Is sex not necessary? To gaze upon each other’s body and touch and enjoy… is that not life? Is it wrong to lust and to place on display… in gentle offering… one’s body? The body is a crucible filled with those things that together make a person unique and special. A crucible meant to serve a need. As ice in the drink on a warm summer day, there is room in the crucible for another to compliment and join.

Can he hold out his lonely hand and can she accept his gentle soul? Can her journey from the storm and his exit from the cabin meet somewhere? Can her tanned breasts and that panty’s edge provide mutual pleasure and enticement and be the vessel canlı bahis that attracts them and can they, then, find fulfillment together. Can she lower her panty as she lowers a guard and can he hold out his hand and accept a gentle reward and no longer be alone?

I view your tanned body and I’m aroused. Your perfect white breasts surrounded by a golden tan and topped by a maraschino cherry. I long for that breast and imagine its taste. Like the first lick of my favorite cone on a hot summer’s day. My tongue touches the chocolate and travels as the cool creaminess whets my desire. One lick isn’t enough and I return again and again, finally taking a small nibble. The cream points where my tongue has dragged it and forms a peak just as your nipple adorns and peaks your breast.

I see the panty’s edge touch near your spread legs and I imagine a bite of chocolate, not crushed but allowed to melt on the tongue, the smooth syrup coats my tongue and enters my throat. The sensation of sweetness and pleasure is as close as I can get to your taste as my mouth attends your pussy and my tongue your clit. Your sweetness is balm to my lips and unguent to my soul. That delicious morsel with its creamy richness and delicious texture increases my desire to please — you.

I ask once more. Can a man live alone and not desire?

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