a woodland nymph with long, flowing hair and soles wet of green pastures, bearing the sun in my hair, the sweet zephyr on my skin.
let me have a temple built. a smoky, translucent crystal cathedral, carved into delicate, intricate Chantilly lace patterns that part ways in impossible angles. a temple deep in the hazy peaks of my vulva, hidden among my now spread-open lips.
let me be your sovereign fantasy, your secret, forever-ish lover.
you’d come and offer me your most precious semen at the feet of my statue; i’d rape you in your dreams, ravishing you harder than the most powerful, stunning of the succubi.
i’d watch you touch yourself kneeling before my altar, cock in hand glistening in the candlelight, with pre-cum dripping all over your firm, bony fingers, sounding like drowning wales when the drops hit the ice-cold floor.
cherish me. cherish my marble face with eyes solid closed and mouth half-open onto delight.
cherish my priestesses swaying naked under the intricate embroidery of their chiffon robes, chanting possessed by my ever so commanding spirit.
and, as they walk barefoot past you, entrancing, titillating, longing, as you start to slowly approach the throbbing pain before the ultimate deliverance, i reach down to your scrotum, into the very center of your mind and whisper your grey matter into a most sensual delirium.