The Mistress Of The Mattress

She oozes sensuality and sex, yet there a bit of innocence which still halos around her. She carries herself like Cleopatra, Lady Godiva, Salome and Eve. She has the grandiose of Queens Isabella, Victoria and Marie Antoinette. She walks, she slithers, she sashes across the floor as if listening to some music inside her head but it comes from her spirit, unchained , unbridled, untamed. She is free to be and to be with whomever she chooses. She is owned by no one but her own conscience and at times she has none.
The time can be forever and then perhaps for only a few fleeting moments. Prepare yourself, fore she gives all, nothing is held back, nothing held in repose. She will give her mouth to you , open and warm, her full breasts, nipples hard and aching. She will give her tightness and her wetness, all this she will give you. And then there is that special gift. The one that she might have promised to you, to ravage, to devour, to consume, to be taken over and over again and to fill without end. In taking all these gifts you will be left craving for more, come day and come night. Your mind will become useless, your body possessed, you will grovel between her legs, tongue waiting in a continuous hunger and thirst. It is a strange, mystical bed that she has, one that you would sell your soul to be in and in the same vein, one that you would pray to be released from. A bed of fantasies achieved and dreams to be had. It is a bed of delicious pain and unimaginable journeys. Many long to be in it. All seek their own sensual and sexual fulfilment in it, those to be reached and totally