The rivers of her nature are the promise land of milk and honey… sweet, sweet sin. I sap it up let her passion travel within. Her waters are healing. Her waves wash over me. She lets me wade at high tide. Her curves are a wild ride. I am now trapped in her whirlpool as she lures me to her deep abyss. My fountain floods with the ache of anticipation. My streams pool into my pit. I fill. My undiscovered springs waiting to be explored. In service to her pleasure, I commune with the lord. My womb overflows with nectar as to nurture her very pain. We are lost at sea again. I am the itched fulfilled dripping in the essence of her will.
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