Day Three hundred and eighteen - That dress and summer skin

There are still places that are secret and sacred to me, though. The places I never took anyone to, because the occasion never arose, or maybe because I didn't want to share them with anyone. But I had plans, back then I had plans, to take you to one of those places I know, deep in the woods, past thickets of brambles, over black briar thorns that threaten to nip at our heels should we not be careful, and then, in that lone grove where naught but birdsong lives, we'd be there, just the two of us, and under the canopies of the tress overhead, I'd take you in my arms, and slip off that dress of yours, taking in the scent of you and us, the perfume of sex and cunt and semen intertwined with that of mother nature. Naked, we'd lay on a bed of leaves of grass, the hum of the earth beneath us beating in time with our hearts. In my dreams, you held me. You hold me. How I wish it was forever you would hold me. Forever. Forever.