I’m deep in her, going deeper, deep. She’s pulling me in to her darkness, her slick wet
I’m deep in her, going deeper, deep. She’s pulling me in to her darkness, her slick wet muddy depths. I’m slipping in to her, into my new bride, into the wet mud of mother earth and my mouth is filled with her her loamy slickness. Surrounded, in her warm cavern, the fertile soil slides around me, between us and I breathe her in, the ancient ooze of life. I feel it, and she feels it too, the elemental power she shares with the earth, connecting her to sodden ground. Her beauty is the heavy, glorious beauty of nature, and in my throes she lets me gaze upon her, aware of her own magnificence… Her love is the thunder under a mountain, consuming me, crushing me, and at the same time holding me tender. The love we make is primal, grunting and dirty and full and ripe. Though we stifle our cries, we are otherwise near heedless of the fact that, just out of this crop of trees, old women pick strawberries. Anyone might wander in and see us wrapped into each other like beasts of the sty, naked, covered in mud.“Is that what I have to do with you?” she all-but growled, peering down at me after my little escapade, “Do i have to shrink you even more? So you can’t do this again?”I was quivering, shaking with anxiety below her. “n-n-no…honey…I p-promise…” I stammered.“You promised last time,” she said, “You promised, but now look…look where we are…”"y-yes, b-b-but…”“I’m going to have to shrink you…” she continued, “I’m going to have to make you so small so you can’t open doors by yourself. I’m going to have to make you small and weak. Maybe I’ll make you so weak you can’t even walk by yourself…”"n-no, please,” I began to beg. The fear was growing in me, the panic swelling. I was so afraid, because I knew she could do it.. -- source link