after the storm... by Ginette T BelleThe morning sun slaps her across the face leaving a warm patch once layered with his thousand kisses. Or maybe it is early afternoon. Who the hell cared? The wind beyond the frost-bitten window sounds like it is under the sheets nibbling at her naked toes whispering "Stay in bed." 11/05/2004 Posted on 11/05/2004 Copyright © 2024 Ginette T Belle
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