Sweet Sylvian Devotion

"Your kisses are wine, your tongue is honey. Together we shall mix us mead." Anonymous. 


He is walking one way she is walking the other. They meet in the middle of this shady lone path.
When two strangers meet on a path they nod, perhaps smile. From a few, a cheery ‘hello!’ is spoken. This is what she expects.

He is not the expected

As he strides towards her his eyes roam her, from face and lips, to thighs and calves. She feels his gaze as tangible as touch. So when his hands glance as well she is not surprised. It is only then, that she realizes that she has stopped. His eyes meet hers and he smiles.
“Greetings” He says
She smiles “hello”
“I have half an hour in which I have nothing to do” he licks his lips “could we be that quick?”


Hand in hand they run. All shady lone paths have paths that lead off of them. This one is no exception. His caresses are fire, his kisses sweet. She bends against him as he presses on. Her hands find his shoulders. Her tongue finds his lips.

Her clothing melts to the pine-needled floor, his heat is too much. His are gone to the wind her breath is so heavy.
Every touch is tenderness, every kiss a rejoicing, every breath is inhaled in love and exhaled in passion. Her sweetness yields to his tender touch, his rough shoulders fall prey to clutching hands. Her legs rap round what is not hers in their seeking to become one.

Flesh meets willing flesh in union. His whispered prayers to her body have no meaning when the crescendo breaks it’s final note. A squirrel the only witness, trampled grasses the only trace. He will forget their coupling tomorrow for another. She will remember it forever.


“You're late” his mother tells him
“I met a young nymph upon the path”
She smiles knowingly. The goat footed Pan cannot be detained – from teaching young girls the meaning of love.
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Mar 7, 2011