Walk slowly, they're holding hands

the mature love, the sincere love.

He, perhaps some eighty years,

She, little more than seventy.

The love germinates in their eyes,

their intertwined hands prove it.

They walk looking their eyes,

She and He!

Hearts beating to the rhythm of weary years;

no longer they need voices, are understood

they are discovered, they guess.

He, loves her, with that mature love

love that has waged, thousand battles.

She faithful to the love, looks for its lap,

and thus, kiss on kiss in every glance

they walk with tired steps.

Their withered bodies don't know time

their affectionate look says everything.

silhouettes, Lovers wandering

Which matter time; when loves itself with the eyes!

She seems to say him; look out!

There is a slope on the sidewalk.

He stops, for a moment,

holding to the beloved:

One I love you reflects in his lips;

love, as mine, late love,

My love., without you I am a defeat.

I love you for what you represent,

I love you because your voice is my existence.

They walk slowly, slowly intertwined;

They do not care about fashion,

or the color of their costumes.

they love each other without voices, their love is immaculate.

He seems to say; Wait a little, sweetheart!

I need the touch of your hand;

this tired heart,

It resists to beat, under the shadow of oblivion.

I need to look at you a bit,

I need love, to breathe the aroma of your greyish hair.

She looks at him tenderly: oh! my love don't be afraid,

nothing will be able to separate us.

The time will call us one day,

and nevertheless;

these souls that inhabit us, will keep on loving.

She and He!

they walk looking their eyes,

hearts beating to the rhythm of weary years;

no longer they need voices;

they are understood, they guess,

they are discovered, in tired steps.

They look with tenderness at the eyes;

two hearts beating interlaced,

They love with the look,

while they get lost in tired years.

They love each other! with this mature love,

with this endless love.

"I wanna make you moan in my ear."

That was the first nibble of what women are capable of. And maybe not all women, maybe just some... in any case she was a special one. She wore her sex all over her body; it was in her clothes, in her walk, in her talk. She had plans to take this girl places she had never been.

Starting with a kiss on the mouth her voluminous lips dragged over hers. From top to bottom she focused on communicating the way she going to lay her down. She grabbed the nape of her neck and knotted her fingers at the roots. She tilted her head back. Her mouth took full advantage of the space that was just created. In a fluid motion she explored her way from her lips to her ear. Before she departed, she whispered "let me take care of you." A slow and patient path to her neck with tenderness and determination made a moan slip. Check.

It became a treasure hunt. As she moved south, there were two places she needed to stop; one to the east and one to the west. She was careful to allow her tongue the same amount of attention at each destination. They responded well with each flick. They arched with pleasure when pressed against her teeth.

To tackle this treasure hunt she had a strategy. She was going to create a prison to hold her captive. She made her a prisoner of her own pleasure in a place where pleasure becomes pain. She wouldn't stop until she felt her body begging to be let go.

She continued to travel the distance, her hands leading the way. There were many places to stop and admire on that journey. Such a beautiful creature, a woman. So deserving of euphoria.

Once arriving, looking, searching and feeling, she finally found the X that marks the spot. This was evident by the heavy breathing of her prisoner. She began to massage her only escape. There was really only one way to finish her off. She took her finger and penetrated the land she excavated. She didn't let off with her tongue. Right there, she was going to show her what it felt like to climb a mountain and free fall from the top. One step at a time she led her up to her heaven, each breath signaling a step taken. What was it going to take? There. That's the combination. Her legs are shaking. She closing in. Her body is screaming but she lets out only a whimper. There are hands in her hair and her face is pressed. Legs are closing in around her. With a deeply pitted groan, and hips raised, she knew that when they fell so would her prisoner. Dropped. Done. Gold. That's it baby, let me take care of you.