Jasminium by Jonathan Luckett

Author:Jonathan Luckett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strebor Books International LLC

Taj recalls watching her, the desire he felt that night stirring inside of him like a hornet’s nest. The way she moved with such grace and litheness, almost catlike; her form exquisite, inspiring, breathtaking . . .

Taj followed her with his eyes, his gaze never faltering or leaving her side. He was seeing a woman for the first time in all of her splendor—not a grainy photograph from some men’s magazine his friend had found under his father’s mattress, but a real, live-blooded woman.

Cheyenne’s breasts were firm and upturned; her nipples were emergent like a flower to the sun’s radiance. Taj watched her in profile and his breath caught in his throat.

As she turned her back to him, the fullness of her spoke to him. The curves of her waist, her long golden legs were magical. And when she pivoted like a ballerina and turned to face him, he saw the patch that covered her sex. Taj was overwhelmed with unfamiliar, intense sensations.

Taj ached for her—wanted her more than anything in his life. He longed to go to her, take her hand, lay her down on the softness of dark, moist Jamaican soil, lie down alongside of her, and devour those luscious lips. He craved to explore her body with the kind of passion reserved for soul mates and first-time lovers, a yearning more than the pangs of hunger that nagged at him constantly. He wanted to know her, memorize her features, imprint and emblazon the sights, sounds, touches, tastes, smells, and emotions of this day in his mind, so that he could return to this place, over and over, whenever he chose.

As he watched from the confines of the downed Beech King Air, he thought that he had never seen anyone as magnificent as Cheyenne, and he doubted that he would ever be blessed to see something this delightful and miraculous again. He was experiencing an orchestration of feelings and emotions that rose in pitch until his entire being was singing. The experiences of love and passion ignited inside him, leaving Taj forever changed.

He thought about following her into the clearing that day. Taj bit his lip until he tasted blood as he pondered his situation. He stood, exited what remained of the Beech King Air, and stretched as his head cleared the top, unsure of what to do next.

Cheyenne turned the instant that Taj exited the cabin to feel what she was experiencing: the pounding, revitalizing rain on his skin. She was facing him now, hands at her sides, her long bronze hair dripping and hanging straight down her back.

With his own clothes soaked, his thick hair dripping as he eyed her jealously, he held onto the bark of a palm tree for fear of passing out. Inexperience paralyzed him and held him steadfast. In the end Taj could only watch his angel from afar . . .

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