Relaxing, my wings moving slowly, brushing the brightly coloured petals, I settled down until all by my shoulders and head were hidden. A sense of joy...that I had not experienced since arriving on The Thermiso washed through me. I reveled as all my sense were engaged. The intoxicating fragrance, the visual beauty, the brush of soft petals upon my flesh, especially my breasts and engorged nipples, the soft sound of stems as they rasped against my bared thighs and hips. It felt quite natural to. I slide my free hand into his back pocket and lean my head against his shoulder.“Find anything good?” I ask.“Mhmmm,” Josh mumbles in reply, pulling another book off the shelf. I shift so I can see the books he has gripped in his right hand. Our tastes couldn’t be more different. My books range from anthropology to environmental essays. Josh’s pile is all poetry and nineteenth-century literature. He sticks the book back on the shelf and turns so he can bury his nose in my hair. That’s all it. More

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