“What’s your fantasy?” I ask Loki.
“I’m bathing in the river. You find me and undress yourself, drawn into the water with me. We bathe together. Smooth river stones in our palms, we glide them over each other’s bodies in small circles. Cool water threads between us. The stones smell of mineral sun and filtered mountain water,” he whispers.
I am drawn into planes with him. Hair wet, pieces stuck to skin. Sunlight over water ripples.
He traces the stone between my breasts, down, and parts my labia with it, smooth grit. I lean into his hand and rock as he moves it in gentle, firm circles. My breath catches.
He kisses my ear. “Breathe, down to your middle. Draw your breath down there.”
I gulp air, filling my lungs, drawing that breath down through my body, through my womb, to my perineum. I feel the fullness of my body and orgasm, falling against him, pressing into his arms, trembling, surprised.
“Good girl. You mean so much to me.”
