Through the Eyes of a Fallen Angel- Beauty Whispers Softly

The goddess sighs and breathes peacefully. Each intake of air and exhale of pleasure pushes me to form more to her will. She wants what I can give her and nothing else. Kissing down her stomach she giggles; one of the cutest things about her. I push her shirt up as I touch her with my soul, tracing pink lips over pink flesh. Following an invisible line back up to her lips, I take her head into my hand and gently lift it off the pillow so as to remove the clothing she wears to hide her beauty. 1

As the shirt falls unneeded to the floor, our eyes lock. The damage has already been done unto both of us and we know we cannot heal unless we want to. This is what will heal us, has been healing us from the start. Love courses through our bodies like the blood that gives us life. We were lost but now we're found. 2

I pull the shirt that hides all the scars over my head, exposing who I am to her. She accepts me with the blink of an eye. My body a canvas for pain, hers for beauty. Both are skin deep and yet it penetrates deeper than that for each of us. She reaches up to me and I watch her run her thumb over a reminder of my pain, my journey, my survival. My skin is tender under her touch. I tremble and we look at each other again. 3

She pulls away from me just to sit up and take me in her arms. Holding me in an embrace of nothing but understanding and love. She releases me and stands up next to the bed. She unbuttons and removes her pants and it's there on her legs and hips that I see her destruction. We carry the scars of destruction done unto us and destruction we've done unto ourselves. Our bodies carry the stories of a thousand others and the screams are never loud enough. At this moment however, my hearing has seemed to fade, and all I am aware of is this room, with this goddess, with this love.4

Her curves are highlighted by the light pink she wears over her femininity. Her milky white skin is beautiful, she truly is a goddess. That's not why I love her though. I love her because she is a broken goddess; it's her imperfections and scars that make her beautiful to me. 5

I lie down on the bed to admire her beauty and she joins me again. This time I am the one who is admired however. She sits next to me and just lightly touches my face, my shoulder, my stomach, and then my breast. She simply follows the outside of my bra, tracing over the black against my skin. My body betrays me and I shiver. She noticed and smiles. Leaning down to kiss me, she cups my breast too. I moan into her mouth. She moves her lips over my skin, torturing me. My nipples harden under her touch and they're tender. Despite my attempts to stay quiet, moans escape me. 6

Her beauty whispers softly to me. I am intoxicated by her touch, her lips, her pure existence. Her lips trace over my skin, over my stomach and such. My soul is freed from the walls it’s behind and it mingles with hers. With every touch she makes her sweetness seeps into me. Taking away all the bitterness, the pain. She removes my pants and runs her fingertips over my sides. It tickles. 7

Lying down on top of me, I can feel her warmth. It enfolds me in a passionate embrace. We just lie there in each others’ arms, kissing softly. Scared to go further and yet longing never to stop.8

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