The curtains billowed,
Cool wind rushed.
Our mingling bodies,
Feel it's soft touch.
The sweat cools,
Leaving an exotic chill.
Our icy skin,
Tingles to touch.
The sheets rustle,
As we turn.
Silk is cold,
We are not.
The sensations combine,
For a mystical feel.
Our bodies touch,
Our minds reel.
We culminate emotion,
In an adrenal rush.
The cries of pleasure,
Drowned out by the moaning wind.
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