Birdboy 10482 Report post Posted July 22, 2012 I call her my cinnamon girl. I tell her that I call her that because of her red hair. It's the color of dark burnished copper, and I love the way it curls and ripples over her lightly freckled shoulders. But she also has the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, and it reminds me of a long ago and far away time, in another life. She's my little bit of sugar and spice and all things nice, with her fresh-faced wholesome good looks, her bright smile, that ineffable sparkle in her eyes. I adore her genteel ways. She's well mannered, well spoken. We josh in the summer evenings as she sits pretty in her lacy white sun dress, sipping delicately at her white wine as the evening sky turns purple and we laugh on into the night. My cinnamon girl brings me back to another simpler time. A time before white envelopes and last-minute confirmation calls. A time before reviews and references, when my world was a younger and more innocent place. I've sometimes thought that in another time, another place, in another world I could have taken my cinnamon girl home to meet my mom, God rest her soul. I forget completely that we both met because of this world. This world of loveless touch, of paid companionship. But you should definitely never judge a book by its cover. For my cinnamon girl is a real lady all right, but she's a little bit more than that. Because not far below the surface, she's also as spicy as her namesake. I discovered that one evening, after our gentle lovemaking, when we were cuddled together and sipping our wine. I don't remember anymore how we got on the subject, but we started to talk about a few of things that really turned us on. And that was how I found that perhaps her scent is vanilla and cinnamon, but there is precious little vanilla to go with that cinnamon, if you know what I mean. Oh, don't get me wrong. She's very sweet, and I'll forever relish the way that she luxuriates in my soft kisses, my gentle caresses. But behind that pretty girl next door face and those genteel manners is a freak between the sheets. Now, her eyes glint as her bedroom door closes behind us, and she knows she has me trapped there with her. And of course, I'm always happy to have her trapped there with me as well. We do things that I had never thought I'd do, with anyone, least of all this genteel lady. She enjoys them, relishes them, makes playful suggestions for new avenues to venture. I indulge her as she indulges me, as we play on into our nights and my world gets a little broader every time we meet. A dreamer of pictures, we run in the night. You see us together, chasing the moonlight, that's my cinnamon girl. As the song says, I think I could be happy, with my cinnamon girl. But I don't dare tell her that. No, that would be creepy. I just want to keep playing with her. For a long, long time. 2 Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Liana 689 Report post Posted July 23, 2012 Thats cute. Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Reddog01 30280 Report post Posted July 23, 2012 Love it BB. I have my "Cinnamon" girl as well. At least in my dreams. :) Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Birdboy 10482 Report post Posted July 23, 2012 Thanks, Liana and Reddog. The tale was just a light one, a little bit of fun, inspired by a lady who is a whole lot of fun. ;) Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
FoxyLady 100 Report post Posted July 28, 2012 I am honoured to have inspired one of your beautifully-written tales, 'BB' ;) Thank you! xoxo, Your Cinnamon Girl. :) Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Birdboy 10482 Report post Posted August 5, 2012 I am honoured to have inspired one of your beautifully-written tales, 'BB' ;) Thank you! xoxo, Your Cinnamon Girl. :) And I am pleased to take your posting virginity as well, FoxyLady. ;) You're very welcome! Quote Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
