Uncanny Tales – (59) Fumbling in the Dark

It was in a caravan in Sharpinghead one long hot summer that Paul and Mara lay safe in the darkness as modesty abates and their inhibitions melt away into the night.
Soft lip touches lip as hot mouths engage and inquisitive tongues employ and passion grows.
Eager trembling hands explore eager young flesh in clumsy groping as they cling together beneath the covers.
Writhing in unison, moaning, panting, gasping, the language of lust spoken fluently in licentious converse until the immodest cacophony peaks to imminent crescendo with uncontrollable desire, and the throb and ache of want for that final urgent coupling as they feed in their gluttonous sweaty consumption as they attain their base and primitive satisfaction.