She was gorgeous. Her black hair was straight and smooth and hung like a silk curtain over her shoulders. Her face was a work of art, with high cheekbones and luminous eyes. Her light skin was soft and unblemished. Even her name was uniquely gorgeous… “Cherys” (pronounced Sheh-REESE, her parents were hippies or something).
She was nineteen, in the full flower of youth with her best years still ahead of her. And despite her young age, I couldn’t help but think of her already as a woman. She had full curves perched around the tightness only a teenager possesses. Hers was a body that would be the envy of any model in the nude magazines my best friend swiped from his dad. I imagine that her body was the perfection that Adam first witnessed when God created Eve.
Her tits were so big, so round, and so indescribably magnetic. Her ass was buoyant and tight as a drum. Her irises flickered and changed color depending on the light, from green to blue to violet, each hue more beautiful than the last. Even her hands were delicate and utterly lovely. I was so in love.