Ostara: Ray *OSTARA: RAY*                            *By GILDA LILY*                  Comments can be made to jeanniemarie                  @sprintmail.com.                  (c) March 7, 1998                  I can smell the rich earth,                  And see the green things                  Begin to poke up                  Through the ground.                  A faint scent of jasmine                  Perfumes the air,                  And I can smell the                  Piney scent of him.                  He whispers my name,                  Eyes bright as the sky,                  As he opens for me,                  Like a delicate flower.                  He is moist,                  And good,                  And clean.                  A fresh breath                  Of country air                  To a boy                  Raised in the city.                  I taste him,                  Sweet yet salty,                  His body sheened                  In sweat,                  His thighs trembling                  With need.                  I reach down                  And kiss                  His rosy manhood,                  His shaft                  Tall and proud,                  Blue veins like marble,                  Throbbing with desire                  As I swallow him whole.                  He cries out,                  The birds fluttering                  From the trees                  As I drink of him                  And thank the Goddess                  For Her bounty.                    My Mountie                  Is a bounty.       Return to Due South Fiction Archive