Precious Cargo....Hmmm a good title for another story.... Precious Cargo...
Honeysuckle rose..that was the scent, or was it Lavender? He didn't remember which, not for lack of interest, though.... far, far from it. But rather, lack of training in the horticultural aromatic arts. That had always been his mother's purview and the loss of that knowledge with her passing had always been a source of regret.
No, the subject of his memories occupied a far larger portion of his thoughts than he ever thought a woman could. And one dear mother would find with approval. A vivid flash of silken sheathed toes, polished to perfection, dallying in his lap suddenly crowded his mind. the tiny golden anklet trapped under the silk, snaking across her be-speckled creamy skin, a memory so vivid he thought for an instant she had returned and had crawled into his lap again....only to join his journey if but in a lingering remembrance, a precious cargo indeed....
Silken stockings, seamed, of course; was all she wore as he opened the door.... Her look enough to tell him she had plans...his soon to discover.
Until...
V~
2 comments:
Very sexy memories.
I hopr we get to read about the plans she had for him. ;-)
Suggestions, sweet temptress, are always appreciated!
I must admit, I began this with the thought of adapting the story to the desires of my reader.
Knowing the story pleases and receiving suggestions makes the creation all the more fun; and in my humble opinion, I think a more meaningful story.
I freely admit I am utterly hoplessly in a thrall. Inspiration requires the occaisonal touch of a loving hand to nurture forth the best my marginal skills can weave. Thank you for those touches! :)
There are a few unfinished stories hidden here and there in this blog, please feel free to speak up and ask for more to be added. I can repost with added prose as easily as an eagar teen rises to seduce again and again! He he....
V~
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