tears of god

she is of quiet step; where the chilly morning hair rises humid fixture and fox from the warming springs. a place to bathe in the morning chill; a time to show and settle within murky warm hums the nudity that crosses under brunette gowns and trestles that sing as she moves in her soft gate. one of little rush; of eyes that still squint to the glaring morning sun; that still blink with a wetness to the corner of her eye from the yawns that engulfed the waking woman's cranium. her gown could drop as her toes peaked over the edge; sea blue eyes drifting the rims as if looking for a smoother way to arrive within the warm waters. to wade until the warmth reached her hips and cleansed the saturation from her slick thighs; a woman of sexual deviation come this year and within the charm of the birds had it came so very eagerly to the current of womanhood and even so did her eyes flaunt and lips pucker as she found herself crouching. one fore-leg slowly dipping in the water, toes extended and tail stuck out as her rump rose in the air as the depth and temperature of the aqua was tested before she slowly slipped within the witches warm stew.

the babe slowly lowered her body within the warmth; a bubbling brew that kept her bode in a temperature that brought her skin to a pleasing touch of the sun and her touch. there is a soft noise that leaves her throat, a purr like hum that comes in her pleasure of the touch. it is a grip; a hug that is so very similar to the touch of another and ni her time does she find this of pleasure; of need and touch does she reside there as her body hides beyond the water surface. an alligator to the view; her cranium touched to the surface while her legs gently touch among the sandy floor.