Beautiful

"What are you doing?"

"Gazing."

"Gazing?"

"Oh yes. And dreaming."

"Dreaming?"

"Inhaling. Devouring. Hungering."

"Why?"

His eyes lifted to her face, surprised to find that she truly did not know. "You're beautiful."

She felt the blush steal across her face and rather than suffer his open and honest expression, she closed her eyes and tried to will herself into that place of nothingness where she couldn't be hurt or swept away on the tide of sensuality and passion; of romance and love. She wasn't beautiful. She knew that. Everyone else knew that, too. She was average at best with plump thighs and wide hips and sagging breasts and stretch marks that stretched from here to there and back again. Her hair was nondescript and her eyes lacked that telltale sparkle and glitter of the sexed and sexy.

His fingers high up between her legs brought her out of her reverie and her lashes lifted, her gaze suspended and trapped deep within his black eyes.

"Don't hide from me, Belle."

"It's not true," her small southern voice stated with the conviction of years of rejection.

"But it is true. Right here, you are more beautiful than any woman; past, present, and future."

His 'right here' was punctuated with a long slow circle though dripping wetness.

"Right here you are perfect. Slick and silky smooth. Drenched with juices from deep inside. So true a response to touch; to my touch and to your own." He inhaled, using his entire upper body, as though to trap her within his senses. His exhale was slow and soft, heated breath on already heated skin causing shivers and a light coating of goosebumps. "Your scent is strong, almost to the point of being overpowering. There is nothing delicate and sickly sweet about you here. It is all raw and raunchy and fucking scented. A pure smell of true sex."

Her blush deepened at his whispered growls and moans of pleasure with every slide of his fingers.

"This is pussy, baby." His fingers were between every fold and puffy lip, up under the hood of her clitoris and down deep inside of her body. "Pussy and cunt and fuck hole and sex and vagina. It is sacred. It is humbling. It is beautiful, truly and uniquely beautiful. It is what makes you woman. And this..." He held up his fingers coated with juices, thick and opaque in whiteness. "This is what makes you my woman."

In slow, savoring motions, his tongue snaked out to lick her off his fingers. And she watched, amazed at his pleasure. It was in his eyes and in the slant of his mouth when he looked over his hand and smiled at her.

"You really think that I'm beautiful?"

There was a slight yet wicked pause where her soul floundered. And then, he spoke.

"Infinitely so, precious. When you are lying in the middle of my bed with your legs wide open and your sweet puss shaved smooth glistening in the candlelight with your honeyed pot overflowing onto your thighs and down between your bottom cheeks, yes, I think you are beautiful."

It was then, when she smiled, that her eyes glittered and sparkled, that the stretch marks disappeared, and that her plumpness became lush and erotic. Beauty is said to be in the eyes of the beholder…and she is no less than beholden to the heart and carnal mind of her Beast.