Paris - city of love

Paris. Mysterious, exciting, nostalgic. The place shrouded in heavy fog.

He walked the night streets. Stranger in a town full of stories. Bars and cafes were smoky. Tables were occupied that people had to stand outside. And between them were they. Girls with red lips. Whores. Lusty, lascivious. Exhibited to show off their naked curves. He was surprised by their animality. Desire that reeked of them. Then he saw her.

She was not alone. She was leaning over a some man. Her slender hands with crimson fingernails were hiding under his shirt. She was laughing loudly. He saw a woman who knew she is beautiful. Disheveled hair were falling into her face. Her eyes were heavy. Maybe under the weight of mascara, maybe thanks to the wine. Her mouth open, moist. Breast under thin blouse. When their eyes met, she sobered for a moment. He immediately imagined himself on the spot the man.

He felt her closeness. Her hot breath on his neck. He took her hand and under the cover of night he took her to his hotel room. In light of the street lamps, which release heavy curtains, he saw only her shadow. Silhouette of her naked body. He stepped closer. Looked into her eyes. They were green. They waited. He ran his finger across her full lips. Her arms had goosebumps. He took her by the hair and wrapped them around his wrist. He pulled her head closer. Her mouth was open. Breath short, fast. He pulled her by the hair even more and tilted her head back. He saw her pale neck. Tasted him. He felt her pulse. She gasped loudly. He liked the smell of her sweat. It was impossible to stand it any longer. He took her face in both his hands and kissed her hungrily. Deeply. With tongue. She clung to him, and he felt the weight of her breast. The warmth of her lap. Touches. Kissing. Furiously. Hard. They fought together. Then their bodies were one. For now and forever. Everything fell apart. Remained only passion without names.

Paris. City of lovers and actors. We all love him. Despite his dark and pain.