"How am I going to walk home?" he was groaning. He pressed close, and kissed me, his tongue lashing mine, warm and sweet.
"Slowly and carefully," I answered after he had pulled away. His smile was happy. "Like other things you may do." I caught his earlobe gently between my teeth (though he says I sometimes bite too eagerly).
As he rested his face between my breasts, breathing low and steady, I savoured the electric feeling of power, normally denied me, in this simple seduction of an exhausted, though loving, man (his peculiar susceptibility to me notwithstanding). I felt strangely potent, almost divine. Stroking his hair, so fine and soft beneath my fingers, it seemed possible that I could rule all men.
posted at 12:38:08 pm
2. As "Americana" defines itself as artefacts of American culture, "Gloriana" consists of the artefacts of my culture.
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