It is Autumn, a cool breeze blows The tree are becoming skeletons, their leaves taking flight She stands there, clad only in a satin camisole and stockings A g-string preserves her modesty, passing tightly between her buttocks She is warm, comfortable in her winter coat that shields her for the breezes' cool caress She lifts the front of her camisole, as if she intends to remove it Her firm thighs, enshrouded by lace Her ears, hear my every breath Beauty is truth.
theredraptor
