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Life is too short for boring stories

Martinique and Christian kissed each other. You could not say otherwise. There was not one who gave the impulse and another who took it, but it was one to enter and accept from both sides, always beginning, ever ending, flowing, because no end and no beginning, no insertion and no exposure was recognized. They felt …

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Warm and soft, his lips felt on hers. His beard tickled her. A little. Involuntarily she had to smile, which brought him to a stimulating thought. Abruptly he sat up. She wanted to do the same, but Christian did nothing more than press her hands on the blanket, gently but emphatically. Martinique would not be …

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