POETRY PLAY - Story Through a journey of passion she learns to pleasure herself - Independent Female Girl on Massage Republic

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Domino held her hat on her head. It was sultry outside, and the sun was blinding, but it was windy as she walked to the lounge chair. She smiled to herself as she sat down and placed her hat on the arm of the chair. A tiny but brief flirtation with a man she had just met made her giggle and show her she still had it. It was still exciting to know that someone thought you were attractive. The way his eyes moved over her, she appreciated immensely. Caressing her skin and loose shirt unconsciously, she picked up her notebook, reading over what she had written for the project that she had been working on.

That was why she was here.

 

The island location for the writers’ conference was just what she needed, and with all of her pent-up energy from the city, she could write volumes. That was what the Cinnamon Writers’ Retreat was for. For writers to get out all of the spicy content that was buried inside of them. Ryanne, the founder and her had taken classes when they were in college and became close friends. In writing groups, they had together, or just the two of them in coffee shops, Ryanne used to add copious cinnamon to her coffee. When Ryanne needed a name for the writers’ retreat that she wanted to induce spicier writing, Domino immediately suggested the spice.

Spice was something they used a lot as an analogy, like the basis of the group and things like saying to the other you need a little more spice in your life.

 

 

Levy had definitely been spice. The moment that Domino met him, he had been that. He was what she had been missing, even though she had not known anything was lacking from her life.