She came to me with a serene smile playing about her lips. Her eyes were soft and gentle, her voice airy and kind. She moved delicately, her willowy body taking on the flow of late August's gentle breeze, and her elfin grace was telling. I followed her blindly, my trust immediate.

I reclined at her invitation, grew limpid at her command. The warmth cascaded over me, through me, and my eyes began to flutter. I gave into temptation's persuading reason and allowed them to close as I moaned inwardly, my pleasure all-consuming.

The fragile fingers caressed lightly first, then grew insistent...and my spine melted in response. It was over much too soon...much, much  too soon. Weakly, I sought equilibrium; mournfully, I looked back to the place of our union. The enchantment and bliss left me with a single truth: I need to get my hair shampooed more often.