Butterfly Kisses

The Lefthanded Project

The sound of rain tapping hard on the roof and the howling wind against the window pane sound like a classical music to her nerves that stimulate all her dying senses. She looked up at him as he drifted off silently. How peaceful you are, she thought, like a sweet child unknown of the harsh blanket clouting your little playground. His shallow breathing formed a light moist against her forehead; sweet and tender with a tinge of grapes. She closed her eyes as she reminisced about how she loved it; nights spent in a cold and dark room as the two of them seek fire from each other’s touch. As though their skins are of great combination to ignite flames through a delicious friction only them could make. She gently skimmed his bare chest with her candle-like fingers, savored every inch of his flesh, every chest hair that seemed like…

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