Falling Into The Softest Whispers Of Time...

“And the last of this tour concludes with the painting, many galleries have attempted to showcase. This gallery was fortunate enough to acquire such a unique find. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Cleopatra.”
All the patrons’ eyes looked up and affixed their attention on the painting hanging on the wall.
“What a sexy patient, which would look fabulous over my King size bed.”
“As long as you share the feast of what lays under your covers  
“Who said that.”  
“Look into my eyes handsome one.”  
“Did you just say something miss.”
“No ma’am.”
“A talking portrait, how different,” the patron mumbled under his breath  
“Look up here my love... and close your eyes... touch me as in a faraway land.”  

Needing the comfort softness tonight  
The luxury of a man’s virality, hardness and deep thrusting with all his might  
Gentle hands upon me when my mind is lost in the dark  
Shadows of me in the light lark  
A soothing whisper as he lays me down  
Understanding my fallen tears trapped in a frame, yet my mind strokes is my only sound  
  
His fingers softly roaming over me kissing over my misty eyes  
Arching my back for his silent invitation, needing no whys  
His fingers snaking deep inside, tasting my hunger, my needs  
Mouthing the peak of my nipples... my pussy pulsating awaiting him to please  
Saturating the tip with his drools…oh…God…turning up my body as my soul he tenderly lease  
Kissing around my belly ring, his caresses gentle as a breeze  
 
I need to be loved, take my mind past the rise of morning glory  
Allow our desires to stain our sheets until we become the pages of a passionate story  
On his knees, as I close my mind to chaos  
Palming my thighs, his fingers, inside me getting lost  
In and out then a tongue dart to tease  
My moans of rapture, submitting to the weakening submission of his appease  
  
Parting my thighs slowly for his pleasure  
Bending his face in, sniffing the scented aroma of my dewy treasure  
Beg me  
Planting my hand on his head  
Pulling his head inward, his tongue following, inside my pussy it has wed
Oh… I needed this  
The lenient touch of this handsome man pleasing my slit  
  
Mm... the tip of his tongue circling arounf my pierced clit  
Drawing out my pre-climatic drips  
My legs wrapping about his neck  
His palms extending upward to my breasts, tracing over the nipple, making me wet  
Let me feel your pleasure, climax in my mouth  
Oh…oh... yes, his licks becoming glutinousness, marinating my wet south  
  
Lifting my mound up to his face  
Suckling my jucies, then the tip of his tongue diving back inside my tighten space  
Oh... yes… his tongue in precession  
My gasps, stabilizing his the sides of his cheeks under his oral obsession  
Make this pussy climax I scream in surrendering  
Locking his face between my thighs his tongue tendering  
  
Oh... yes…my rainfall coming in waves, blanketing his tongue  
Sqeezing my pussy, making sure he savors my cum  
My mind, my body, my soul needing mending  
Reality and illusion, blurring, blending  
The depth of my heart he’s emotionally sending  
His tongue soothing me in the aftermath  
Reaching out for me again in the midnight hour
Kisses to my lips in a flash  
Hips up, parting my buttocks, the hardness of his arousal sliding into my tight ass  
Mm… inside me marinating, fingers inside my pussy hole just a thrasing  
Echoing whimpers as the pinnacle of climax on my digits basking  
 
“Miss.. ahh... who is the woman in the painting... captivating from where I stand, I mean… the imagery is very expressive, to think you here her soft whispers across the land.”
Can someone, anyone, paint me a duplicate of her, not to leave out nothing from her strands of hair to her captive eyes, which holds a timeless flare?”  
“I’m afraid not, the imported paint utilized for this particular piece is very rare. This painting is not for sell, it’s on display all eyes to admire where it hangs.”  
“I can be very persuasive, if need be, a private contribution to the gallery if you can understand.” He patron looked down at the Curators’ shoes, hum perhaps a pair of Vera Wang
“Not interested, this painting stays where it remains, here, enjoy your day sir.”
The patron walked away
The Curator looked up at the painting.
“What story will you bestow on me in this evening. It’s a shame, all the male patrons have tried to confiscate you and if I told them the pleasures you are capable of giving it will only lead to disbelieving
The Curator looked around and then walked away