Never to know what might be in store...



The scarf

"A small gift of appreciation." He said handing over a brightly wrapped , red ribboned gift.

She loved gifts. It spoke volumes about care and the person. She liked him even more. A thing she had grown up with, knowing to show gratitude and respect., toward another.

Plus....that feeling of excitement and happiness never to wane, a reminder of child-like innocence in pleasure found at the surprise of a most unexpected gifting of joy in any gift given.

It was a scarf....woven with the finest of thread. Hues of delicate pink offset against the boldness of shades of brown.

She placed the scarf round her neck and felt the magic weave its way into her bossom .

"How could u have known I love scarfs..."

And when their lips met, when his mouth loved her breasts, when he possessed the length of her legs , made love to her toes, when he allowed her to taste him back....

When his sweat dripped all over her....when she rubbed it into her...and could not get enough of him...and he...he let her feed him with all he had forgotten about.

The magic was not simply the gifting of the scarf...it was the man who had shared of himself in his attentiveness to her pleasure matched with his.

A fine evening woven into eternity.

A scarf...a delicate fine cloth that will be a reminder forever of passions matched and never to be forgotten.

RB.