I Love Redheads
I personally think that this is a fantasy of most men … to be with a redheaded woman. And being a redhead myself, only adds to the desire to be with a fellow ginger.
The fantasy I have about this is simple enough. To visit the Emerald Isle and come across this living example of Irish wonder. A woman with all the right kind of curves in all the right places on her pale skin; hidden behind a woven wool sweater and a lengthy skirt. Her hair, standing out as bright as the sun, flowing naturally with the wind. Her eyes a light green as if holding the essence of the land within them.
She offers to show me to the ruins of a castle far enough away that most do not venture off there. As we arrive and explore the area, hearing stories of its legends and superstitions, she regales me with one more; the story of two lovers. As she tells the tale, she walks out before me; pulling her sweater up and over her head. Revealing beneath her braless breasts with perky nipples; dark in color when compared against her pale skin tone. Her scarlet hair falling free from the sweaters pull as if in a natural tease to the eyes. Then she slowly pushes down the skirt from around her waist to reveal no panties, but the presence of the alluring and gentle bush of auburn beauty. She then lays herself among the tall grass of the castle’s courtyard while reaching out her hand; begging for you to come join her in hugging the earth. In the moments that follow, I join her in the same natural state atop the grounds to which we indulge into each other’s bodies.
The fantasy I have about this is simple enough. To visit the Emerald Isle and come across this living example of Irish wonder. A woman with all the right kind of curves in all the right places on her pale skin; hidden behind a woven wool sweater and a lengthy skirt. Her hair, standing out as bright as the sun, flowing naturally with the wind. Her eyes a light green as if holding the essence of the land within them.
She offers to show me to the ruins of a castle far enough away that most do not venture off there. As we arrive and explore the area, hearing stories of its legends and superstitions, she regales me with one more; the story of two lovers. As she tells the tale, she walks out before me; pulling her sweater up and over her head. Revealing beneath her braless breasts with perky nipples; dark in color when compared against her pale skin tone. Her scarlet hair falling free from the sweaters pull as if in a natural tease to the eyes. Then she slowly pushes down the skirt from around her waist to reveal no panties, but the presence of the alluring and gentle bush of auburn beauty. She then lays herself among the tall grass of the castle’s courtyard while reaching out her hand; begging for you to come join her in hugging the earth. In the moments that follow, I join her in the same natural state atop the grounds to which we indulge into each other’s bodies.
41-45, M
