Morning Dove

Aya and Morning Dove agreed to meet by the lake as they had ten thousand years ago. Aya climbed a tree nearby and waited for Dove to arrive. Perched silently upon a branch like an owl, she looked down to see Dove moving through the moonlight, to the shore with a delicate curiosity. Enchanted by the shimmering blue glow of the ancient waters, Dove succumb to the magnetic pull of the lunar spotlight on her, and only her.
Believing she was alone, she reached behind, loosened the bow of her gauzy dress, and let it fall to her ankles.The bright beams of starlight illuminated every peak and opening of Dove’s divine renaissance figure. Ever youthful freckles decorated her body in starry, arabesque ornamentation which kissed the curves of her cello shaped body as she swayed melodically into the warm sweet water, sharing the porcelain white of her skin with the dark, which lavishly reflected the moon’s amused light, to all the jealous stars. Her fruit like breasts floated to the surface exposing her hardened nipples to a voyerous sky. Her loving fingers craved their pretty playmate, as the velvety petals of her flower became rich with honey she spread her legs and gave her hungry fingers what they wanted. Aya watched Dove’s private dance with the moon and its avalanche of glaring stars. Morning Dove found her song quickly, as trembling fingers expertly played the glorious instrument between her legs. A slippery symphonic crescendo released from her, quite simply, one lone and perfect E6 , which resonated high into the August sky before shattering into endless sonic plumes of white silk. Knowing Aya would be coming at any moment, Dove glided to the shore, leaving behind an angel shaped ripple, expanding infinitely through Aya’s lake of time.
Dove saw her standing alone on the shore, her back modestly turned. The mask of an owl fastened behind her head, stared as Dove redressed her glistening wet body. Aya turned to face Dove, revealing her eyes, aglow like amber flames, her soft, wild hair whispered to her lovely visage, aglow like candle light. Her royal DIADUM, a thin band of black ribbon fastened elegantly across her forehead above her strong brow.
Aya was always draped in honorable minks and furs of mothering softness that tickled and kissed her neck. Strong enchanted leathers clung to her figure in ecstasy, black feathers, tassels, stones, beads talons dangling from her arms like wings. She was a moving luminosity. Gentle breezes worshipped behind her, as the amorous future absorbed every angle of her brave beautiful face. Aya’s glamorous posture, her dark flowing form, her full red lips often resembled the black swan as she emerged from the lake. And like the sentimental swan, she too yearned for her mate. As their eyes met, Aya presented Dove with a single bursting red rose. Dove blushed and drew in its luscious fragrance, joyfully pulling the tiny molecules of love into her.... Aya grasped the rose, and dipped it into the shimmering water, offered again to Dove the rosy chalice. Dove lifted the petals to her lips to drink the sweet water. Aroused by its perfume and wetness, her tongue began to caress the edges of its velvety spiral. Her own blossom, became soft and wet, pulsed and ached and Aya slipped her tongue into the delicate red flower and caressed Doves lips with her own. As the petals slipped away, their lips reunited.The music of their breathe, raising and falling, echoed into the night as their union was made complete. The sounds of their love rose high into the air and fell back to Earth like tiny feathers, which tickled the lake the with.... “ I love you’s……….