Photo taken by author
Dampness settles into the fabric of my leggings as moisture trickles slowly down my inner thigh. Why? Oh, no good reason other than I’m ovulating again. I hear a murmur of bird trills in the distance, awakening from their winter slumber- singing to the sunshine on this warm winter day. My footsteps crunch in the dried dirt creating a steady rhythm of melodic resonance for the birds to harmonize to. I look up and see one of the mountains curving daintily into an erect nipple on a curved mound of flesh. Brushing the sky with longing and opening hungrily to its blue touch. I sigh. It’s going to be another interesting hike. The sun sends warm rays to my bare back; Heating my skin, adding kindling to my arousal. I regret not wearing underwear today to help gather this flowing spring. The mountain breast meets my eyes again with a wink. She calls me closer Asking me to suckle her, To caress her trees, To pet her mounds, The birds trill in agreement. The wind blows a gust in my direction Pushing me closer. I’m as shy as any bi girl when a woman beckons, But this mountain nipple tilts herself towards me Waiting And nature seems to be acting in accordance…
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