girl talk

The forest was ancient. The trees thick and old, roots that were twisted. It might once have been filled with bird-song and animals that roamed. But now it was ages past its former glory. It's canopy was so dense that rgw bronzed Goddess could only see the occasional streak of moon light that rarely touched the forest floor. Yet even so, its thick vines were not able to take away the remnants of the Mother Winter power and cruelty it presented in the southern regions. She moved among the land with the grace of a fleeting swan. Cloaked in, not white, but a garb of earthy hues and russet, she looked like a consort of the sun. Muscles rippled beneath the sheer sepia, supple in curve and length, though strong enough to propel her forward, as soon as her regal audits came in collision with the familiar sonnates, at a coaxing speed. Her teacup paws spreading generously towards the source, ignoring the swelling of her abdominal region and the size of her ankles that began to double in size. Leera she purred, allowing the winter breeze to take her musical sonnates away, the same thick arabic accent leaving her ebon foreign-kissed lips. She tasted her name, playing with it upon her plush, coral tongue and it burnt like whisky. Leera, the ivory queen and, recently, her new and, some might say, only friend; whether this was true or not she could not say but she responded the call without a second thought. The other woman soon came into view, pace lessened into peaceful strides, as a smile creeped upon the bronzed Goddess pretty maw, tugging at its corner in order to desplay the fond affection upon seeing the woman.




When you walk that walk.
And you talk that talk.