The Incredible Mangoes

I have returned home, finally. My adventures have been emotional, orgasmic, unbelievable, hilarious and hurtful (to some extent). This is what happens when you go to an alien city and hook up with two gorgeous women who both know about each other and are trying to be cool with it. 

Anyway, so im going to write differently this time, as i was recording it in my journal over the trip. I am really tired though, so it might not make much sense. cheers

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I am a stranger in a strange place. Wandering in and out of nameless streets. I am careless, no where to be or belong. This feeling of freedom would be intoxicating, if I wasnt already.

A persian princess enters the room unannounced. Not everyone rises to greet her, but welcome her warmly they do. She barely notices me but I have already caught her embrace... it slams deep into my chest, and i am taken aback by this stark intrusion.

Her presence is brighter than my last name... and I want to give it all away this time.

As days pass and night finally falls upon us, she is in my arms and I hers.

A wild, persian cat she is. Her dark brown black curls tumble around her shoulders as she releases them from their guard just for this intimate moment. She knows she is stunning, and reserves elements of her beauty only for the moonlight. 

She is a sight for which I have to take a minute to absorb - as she lays within layers of soft sheets, myself and the glow of the night. 

She anoints her head with almond oil, and lights incense in the room. I inhale her scent and i taste her skin as my senses overflow. 

I tread carefully within her space, I have been here before it seems. This familiarity is comfortable and unsettling at the same time. She suggests that our great great great grandmothers made love. What intense love we made though, possibly such that I have never made before.

I see fire behind her eyes, a wild burning uncontrollable indescribable thing. This energy is brilliant and penetrating. Her movements leave marks within and without my body, enfolding me tightly.

Steady... steady.

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Sharbat Gula is just drop dead gorgeous. She is the long legged, high heeled boot clicking, luscious black mane of hair bouncing, everyones head turning, non abstract prose deserving kind of girl. Her eyebrows are deviously arched, and her seductive perfume is far from almond oil. When she calls, her designated ringtone on my phone is Damn Girl by Justin Timberlake. 

Yeah. This straight girl has fallen for the rockstar.

Her cellphone vibrates constantly, she is impossible to get a hold of unless she wants you to. Her lips are delicious, her eyes intelligent and piercing. Her neck is to die for, ah fuck she is fine and she knows it. With every move of her body she brings me further and further to my knees.

 She is the temptress, the seductress, the godess of sex. Fittingly, she leads me to a sacred holy place and sits cross legged on the floor, back against the wall. She motions for me to sit in front of her, lean back and rest my head in her lap. This is a dance in slow motion to me, and as I look up at her she bends forward to close her mouth over mine. 

Absolutely Divine, in my arms she comes for me. I press my finger to her lips gently, shhh. 

We are lying on patterned carpets in the women's prayer room at her college. 

Sharbat Gula is no princess... between us there is no agenda but sex. For now. 

But as she lets me undo her layers, i find smaller beauties that bring color to her cheeks. 

I make jokes.... her clumsy hands, her slightly unshaven legs, a dimple on her left cheek when she smiles. 

I am melting completely, as she applies something to her lips and fixes her hair before we leave. I am watching her in the mirror. she asks me to stop looking because it makes her nervous. Then she asks me to continue my gaze, while she steadily holds mine ... with a look that would make you want to sell your soul.

- birdie