Spring Wind

i had never known true beauty until i saw her. her olive skin, hair and eyes impenetrably black. the moment we first met, spring wind crawled across my skin, simultaneously stimulating every nerve (/organ/) of my body. i needed her like a simile needs a conjunction. i took her to a place where no one could follow us, a place where fantasies (/nightmares/) become reality. the scent of her hair and the taste of her skin (/sex/) were all that mattered. i have never made love to (/raped/) anyone comparable to her. my flesh ached with desire and longing, but she was mine; she gave herself to me. as i tasted her nectars (/sweat/tears/saliva/blood/), the wind coursed through me. she stays here now, never needing to leave (/no escape/chains/binding). from time to time i visit her, run my fingers across her silky smoothness. she is still as young (/tight/) as ever; time does not move forward in this place. i think i too will stay here for awhile (/fuck her/anally/til she bleeds/). the wind is so warm; her words (/stop/don't/it hurts/help/) are more beautiful than any music, the sounds flowers would make if they could speak as they bloomed. when i slide myself (/ram my cock/) inside her, the wind carries her (/to orgasm/whether she likes it or not/), and the gentle warmth of my love fills her (/i shoot my load in her ass/). my spring wind is perpetual. it will never die.