Ripples in her orgasm

A sigh. 
A smile.

A chuckle. 

And then... contented guilt. 

Oh to feel the pulsating vibrations once

again. The chaos of her fruit. The lust

of her delight.

If only... nothing.

Her ripples led to destruction. Well, a fertile ending of all things good.

The cry in the night. 

The tears of a girl.

The loneliness of desire.

For each wave of madness ended some 

other pleasure. A glee long since regretted. 

We called him Josh.