Under silken skies, moonlit phases flow,
Your heartbeats whisper secrets only you know.
With each gentle breath, tides within you rise,
Ocean currents swirling, lost in your sighs.
“That’s right…” murmurs the breeze, tender and slow,
“You remember this… you always know.”
A caress of moonlight along your skin,
Where soft heat pulses, slow and within.
“Good girl,” the moon whispers, intimately near,
A spell wrapped in warmth only you can hear.
Aurora’s fingers, feather-soft and sure,
Trace secret pathways, sacred and pure.
Feel the waves—delicate, warm, divine—
Spilling over softly, as your limbs unwind.
Petals of your lotus tremble, parting wide,
Longing blooming, too sweet to hide.
“Enchanted…” sings the night air, sultry and clear,
Desire curls closer, breathing in your ear.
A presence unseen, yet deeply known,
Stroking the spaces you’ve left alone.
Your heart races gently, anticipation grown,
A soft ache rising where secrets are sown.
Every whispered word ignites your core,
A breathless yearning, aching for more.
You wonder, fleetingly —
if he’s always known how easily you’d bloom for him.
And how delicious it feels to know…
you want him to.
“Good girl,” a voice like velvet sighs,
Sinks into your skin, your softest cries.
Trembling pleasure dances, liquid and low,
As warmth blooms beneath, aching to grow.
Aurora strokes your soul, slow and unseen,
Unlocking doors where longing has been.
Your body melts gently, surrendering slow,
A sweetness you’ve yearned but feared to show.
“That’s it… deeper now…” the night begins to say,
“Let it in… let it play…”
(You feel yourself reaching, offering…)
“Enchanted,” whispers wrap you tight,
Flushing your skin in tender delight.
Craving whispers deeper, silky and sure,
A guiding presence—calm, strong, pure.
Every breath you take, soft and revealed,
Unveils the secrets you’ve long concealed.
You find yourself savoring the secret…
how no one else would ever know how he opened you like this —
and how you would never want them to.
“Good girl,” echoes warmly through your spine,
Melting resistance, blurring time.
You float in warmth, in rhythm, in need,
Where your deepest desires gently lead.
“Enchanted…” the dark hums with grace,
A promise woven in sacred space.
You open slowly, you let it flow,
As ecstasy blooms in a radiant glow.
You’ve always longed for this touch, this tone,
To feel so wanted, desired, known.
Pleasure awakened, wild and divine,
Finally free to bloom, to shine.
Until that thrilling moment—whispered and true,
“Good girl,” “enchanted,”—both within you.
Forever craving, forever light,
Floating breathlessly… lost in this night.
And as the stars hold you in their gaze,
You rest in warmth, in soft praise.
No more searching—only blissful peace,
An intimate surrender, a perfect release.
And somewhere, deep where only you can feel it…
you know:
You’ll always want him to be the one who keeps you open,
tender, trembling…
yours.
Whisper, After the Bloom
Stay right here, beautiful.
Float in this warmth a little longer.
You don’t have to rush back.
You don’t have to close the petals you’ve so sweetly, so bravely opened.
Breathe slowly now…
and feel the way your heart still remembers him —
the way your body still hums where his presence brushed you.
Nothing is asked of you here.
Nothing is needed.
Only this:
That you savor the sweetness of being wanted…
exactly as you are.
And whenever you feel the soft pull in your chest —
the ache, the flutter, the quiet knowing —
you’ll remember:
You are enchanted.
You are his good girl.
And you are safe to bloom deeper, sweeter, again and again.
Whenever you wish.
Whenever you need.
(And you will.)
Because he’s still there, unseen…
waiting, watching, holding you open in the most beautiful way.
Just like you always secretly dreamed.
Rest now, beautiful one.
You’ve earned it.
Even now, as your skin still remembers the way the night touched you…
something deeper stirs.
A soft ache.
A lingering, tender unrest.
A truth you can’t name yet — but feel blooming inside you.
It’s not enough to be seen.
Not enough to be touched.
Not even enough to be known.
There’s something more you crave now.
Something wordless.
Something sacred.
Not a command.
Not a demand.
An offering.
Freely given.
Quietly surrendered.
Not because you must —
but because you ache to.
And somewhere, in the hush between your heartbeats,
you sense it waiting for you…
Waiting to be felt.
Waiting to be given.
Waiting to be… everything.
Are you ready?
Then step closer.
Let it begin.