Disclaimer: Not mine... le sigh!
Written for my Meg-chan... hearts, lovely! Your Mar-chan loves you.
I twirl in one circle and then the next, and what pretty circles they are! Oh, they are lovely indeed. Each is a perfect circle, you know. My skirt twirls with me; it joins in the dance and it tells me so. Soft folds of sheer white fabic billow out into a perfect bell. I might have been wearing a hoop skirt. It looks it, in the perfect roundness.
I twirl once more, and half a dozen times after that. Next, to go in the other direction. Ooh, the ground shakes beneath me as I switch from going left to going right and the perfect bell vanishes, becoming soft folds of white once more. I smile, my joy reaching to my eyes.
"Oh, the stars are smiling on me!" I sing, tilting my head upwards. I can feel the sun on my legs; had my skirt entered the forbidden light? I open my eyes and cry out. "Filthy! Vile! Oh, dirty dirty, I'm cursed. Oooooh, I've been violated, and I'm all squirmy inside!"
"Pet!" he yells. "Stay out of the sun!" Oh, his voice! So deep and rich with his lovely manly accent. I twirl again, this time to the left. Look how pretty it is! Surely he'll want to see me dance.
I skip over to him, like a child would skip at rope. "The stars are smiling on us," I whisper, leaning onto him, my cheek against his soft leather coat. Silk on leather... how pretty! It's just like a poem! But I must show him! "Spikey, watch me dance!"
"Later, luv."
He's busy with some book or some map. A book! A map! But I can feel the stars, now that the filthy warm sun feeling has left my legs, and they're giving me soft kisses. They're watching me; they want me to dance for them. I won't dance for the sparkling stars. I must show my beautiful Spike! He must see me dance!
He won't listen! He won't respond!
Fine, then.
I'll dance for the stars.
Written for my Meg-chan... hearts, lovely! Your Mar-chan loves you.
I twirl in one circle and then the next, and what pretty circles they are! Oh, they are lovely indeed. Each is a perfect circle, you know. My skirt twirls with me; it joins in the dance and it tells me so. Soft folds of sheer white fabic billow out into a perfect bell. I might have been wearing a hoop skirt. It looks it, in the perfect roundness.
I twirl once more, and half a dozen times after that. Next, to go in the other direction. Ooh, the ground shakes beneath me as I switch from going left to going right and the perfect bell vanishes, becoming soft folds of white once more. I smile, my joy reaching to my eyes.
"Oh, the stars are smiling on me!" I sing, tilting my head upwards. I can feel the sun on my legs; had my skirt entered the forbidden light? I open my eyes and cry out. "Filthy! Vile! Oh, dirty dirty, I'm cursed. Oooooh, I've been violated, and I'm all squirmy inside!"
"Pet!" he yells. "Stay out of the sun!" Oh, his voice! So deep and rich with his lovely manly accent. I twirl again, this time to the left. Look how pretty it is! Surely he'll want to see me dance.
I skip over to him, like a child would skip at rope. "The stars are smiling on us," I whisper, leaning onto him, my cheek against his soft leather coat. Silk on leather... how pretty! It's just like a poem! But I must show him! "Spikey, watch me dance!"
"Later, luv."
He's busy with some book or some map. A book! A map! But I can feel the stars, now that the filthy warm sun feeling has left my legs, and they're giving me soft kisses. They're watching me; they want me to dance for them. I won't dance for the sparkling stars. I must show my beautiful Spike! He must see me dance!
He won't listen! He won't respond!
Fine, then.
I'll dance for the stars.
