Coven.

Yeah, I was Dreaming About You in the morning, Maria.

You stood nude in the shower stall, large palace of tile and of glass, so quietly lathered yourself. Water shut off, shampoo already massaged into your hair, with gentle suds doing their work.

I entered dressed similarly, or rather, undressed shall I say, attired, disrobed in full pastel colour for the occasion. Black tie affair, clothing optional. Silently slid open the shiny glass door, shower condensation on the inner glass like on your smooth skin.

Stepped into the shower, shadow into Spring light, birds chirp and peep in their roosts outside, as the sunshine filters through the ethereally thick glass-block window.

Reach around your hips as the water trickles casually from above and the sunshine filters through, the window, soothing, distorted light, my strong powerful hands on your Navel. Fingers so firmly dig into your skin, subtly assertive Squeeze pulls You in closely, thighs that quiver in my grip, your lathered, soapy backside rubs so closely against my torso and hips. Can not resist, the suppleness of your ass with strong hands, Holds You Ever Closer Still. Spring light softly illuminates our Palace of glass and of tile.

Quivering of your thighs, transience, permanence of this quiet Spring day.

Reflection of our contours upon the glass doors of our Palace, wet suds dribble off of your rock hard Eraser Nipples which I so quietly tug, pull, and twist, lingering moans ooze and tiptoe off of your tongue, fill the space like the Spring light through the window, smooth lips are open, accent of song that permeates, like the voice of little birds in the garden.

On this quiet Spring day.