“I pressed her thigh and death smiled”

“I am running through a snowfall which is her thighs, he dramatized in purple. Her thighs are filling up the street. Wide as a snowfall, heavy as huge falling Zeppelins, her damp thighs are settling on the sharp roofs and wooden balconies. Weather-vanes press the shape of roosters and sail-boats into the skin. The faces of famous statues are preserved like intaglios....”

“Moving between her thighs, he stretched out above her, then thrust into her. Once. Because, as he did everything, he acted without hesitation or apology to claim her entirely. Her eyes went wide and her breath caught. Holding her gaze, he pressed himself deeper, barely easing back before pressing deep again.”

“I could write an epic poem about your thighs.”“That would amuse polite society rather too much, and I wouldn’t like that.”“I wouldn’t either.” She pressed her cheek to his belly. “I can’t think of a word to rhyme with marble column.”

“His lips pressed against her forehead and she felt him smile against her skin. "Believe me...the only place in the world I want to be is wherever you are." -Grant Morgan”

“You asked of me once, how high, high can beor if there was an exhibit..I smiled and then whispered..My thighs are the limit…”