Quenching
Tender Passion by Shurganov, Vladislav
Valentine, a spindle in my hands, tears in my eyes, wet from the touch singing bodies. Passion and tenderness pour over my heart; I am beyond every possible sensation. Valentine warmth in my eyes, tenderness to bewilderment, full frankness, two people in each other and we feel each other as one. Valentine, a song in the field, yearningly tender a pile of straw in which I sink with you. Splashed with colors. To full openness, to full madness, merging, ecstasy. And every movement of yours is happiness. Valentine my eyes in tears, enough my most tender Love. Valentine, your Serene Excellency. Valentine who drags me through the entire universe to hide me from danger. My man, Valentine. Before him everyone weeps when he touches me. Valentine, a prayer, light. I make love to you now and you sink in my words, you sink and splash about with Scorpio passion.
And the Scorpio passion? There is no such white sex, totally slow, fixing the attention. When you don't know what to expect and you sink in him with your eyes, with your hands. And your airy passion is compelled to give in. Valentine, we are in the bottom of a lake and at the same time on a high mountain top, I descend from the sky and you meet me from earth, and thus the sky and the earth touch in our inception. Valentine, in whom I believe, Valentine, who I love, for who the muses dream, my little star, my wettest dream, my highest top, my raving love. Who when I am careless is careful. Who gives me rest while he makes love to me, stops and contemplates eternity. Valentine, the sea, the birds, the sky and everything good and nice in this world. Tell me a tale this night with your heart. I like all of your tales. The moderation and your flame I like. Little pain from your passion. I like it. I like you, my man, the male principle. I like you a little Valentine. I love you very much, Valentine. And our love is stained like a kid with a bib with all unexpected things and our love will abide forever.