Early morning. Daylight leaks thru a roof of clouds, golden drops of light fall into a pond of a green, sparsely furnished room in which naked man sits in a chair by a bed, smoking a cigarette, contemplating a sleeping woman and her naked flesh. She is nestled in warm folds of bedsheets scented with sex.
the man is aroused by the memory of last nightS perverse darkness that released him and her from all bodily and mental inhibitions. sex to him was the most eloquent gesture that expressed his mingled with confusion and shame but also pride and conceit his enormous lust for life he could quench in giving himself away to this sleeping woman. he abhorred and despised men and women whose cravings and longings were shackled to their wither with dry fucking genitals, who thought themselves to be perverse just because they smeared they mugs with cum and pissed into their wide open mouths. he could never imagine to dirty this sleeping womanS face with ...
a face that he would be kissing soon, a face that looked at him with trust and respect.
he took a drag, blowing bluish smoke that coiled into transparent shapeless form and slowly disappeared. he felt disgust rise its hideous face at the passing thought of others turning their faces into napkins satined with cum, piss, and shit, the thought passed thru his mind leaving behind deep footprints of such an intense distaste, he leaned forward and put his hand on the sleeping womanS belly heaving like a sea. it felt warm and soft.
half of her face was veiled in black shining hair, slim white shoulders he thought he would crush, holding them from behind as thou her body was a continent he was afraid to be torn away, round, full breast topped with hard nipples lay on her corset of body, long smooth legs were slightly spread showing black stripe of hair between.
-sheS beautiful, the man says quietly to himself.
she was so much different form all the other women the man had slept with before. she was the only one that turned her body into a sort of a gate festooned with her soft, warm voice, beyond which he has found another dimension of sex in which he met his selves.
he remembered her face while her body was ruptured by waves of orgasm crushing with loud, long moan against the shores of night.
her face, the undescrible expression of pain and ecstasy it wore , has become his own.
the woman turned around, brushing her black hair off her face, beautiful and "clean".
-hi, she said, smiling,
he put out the cig. Went over to the bed. "Hi", he said, laying down next to her.

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