i. eyes.
At night, when they are done making love and she is tired and he is relishing in the aftermath, he likes to look into her eyes before they close. They are oh so green, like the trees in the Black Forest. In them, he sees their past, present, and future. He thinks they're like movies, because it's like putting on a show; revealing everything she has to offer, so he takes her again despite her protesting and revels in the way they brighten just for him.
ii. mouth.
Some may call him pervert, indecent, even immoral. But he is a male after all. If asked what his most precious memories of one Miss Elizabeta Héderváry are, he would have to say the first time she gave him oral. He can't help it, and no matter how many times she hits him over the head with a frying pan – he'll always cherish that moment. Her lips grazing his naval, hands smoothing over the plains of his chest and cupping his balls until he feels like he's going to die on the spot. And then she takes him into her mouth, and it was all over after that.
iii. ears.
Sometimes, even the most awesome of people can feel down and low. Once in a while, He gets stressed from work, from school, and sometimes his brother gives him hell. But when he comes home, and she is on the rocking chair waiting for him, he knows he'll always have a ear willing to listen to his heart's content.
iv. hands.
He couldn't count the number of times he cursed her temptation. He wanted sex, badly. But sex without marriage was sin in the eyes of his god, so he locked himself in his room with all the lights turned off, and slowly grips himself and stroke his long, hardened length, imagining her hands touching him instead of his own.
v. nose.
At first, he had no idea where that smell was coming from. No matter where he went in his one bedroom apartment, the smell would always be there, permeating his senses. He followed his nose until he found the source, lying on his bed, naked and completely satisfied. He came upon her body and buried his head into the crook of her shoulder. He'd never tired of lilac and vanilla as long as he was alive.
vi. legs.
He liked her legs, they were soft to the touch and fun to look at. They were also nice and long . . . very long. So long in fact, they wrapped around him quite easily and pulled him even closer as he pumped in and out of her. And when they're done with their usual lovefest, he likes to glide his finger up and down, occasionally slipping in between her knees to play with her ticklish spot.
vii. arms.
There was a time, long ago, when her arms were wrapped around his neck solely because she wanted to chock the living hell out of him. Nowadays, more recently, she does this for another reason. War is such a terrible thing, and he gets lonely and sad when he sees the people of his country die. But when she is there, the light that breaks through the darkness, there is not other place he'd rather be than in her arms.
viii. heart.
It was unknown what prompted him to do it, but he dragged her underneath him one stormy night and demanded that the kiss right now and right here. And both of their surprise – she did. And the moment she whimpered into his mouth as he tugged her lower lip, pushing his tongue past hers, that no matter what nightmare or hell they go through, he'll always love her. Like the sun loves the sky, she'll always have his heart.
It went from dirty to mushy, baaaaw. If you likey, review =D