She took off her dress. She had long black hair, a pale face, slanted green eyes, greener than the sea. She was beautifully formed, with high *******, long legs, a stylized body. She knew how to swim better than any other woman on the island. She slid into the water and began her long easy strokes towards Evelyn.* Anais Nin, Mallorca
Letter from Anais Nin To Sean
Every stroke is like the foundation of Adam you pound and twist. Make your **** shift from inner to outer space. That way when you lift you are not empty, while the air above your *** has a crisp outline --movements down inner thigh easy to sway, a lilt almost, dark reservoir where you are satisfied before it happens, as you wait anticipating that several blink.
Letter from Sean to Anais
When i kiss, my lips are tender and nibble and my breath sweet can be heard in that autumn forest as a river runs down your spine; you are a mouth that licks the back of my hand nibbling on my fingers while I find the crease of your ***** and liberate the edges. You're a lovely, fertile reef where impossible swans hold my **** within the fireworks spoken as light storms remember the reflected grace of your mouth and eyes when we stare into that abyss that never stops so wonderful *** rides our back to an ancient sea forgotten when the tide pools break.
She had long black hair and when she spoke the hair covered her eyes, and you cleared them by brushing the strands back, slipping your ideal into her mouth, her long legs drawn against your anticipation of some deep distress when you finish later, a great shark of a ship hunting the strokes, spliting the pearl clam open with your simple breathing foaming hurricanes, when they reach half-way suddenly still -- the anchor falls through the splash raging down our street released to an undetermined depth.