Mountain Petting

"Wow, what a vivid and immersive story. I love how you wove the Grand Canyon's history into the personal moments. How did you develop the character's connection to both the canyon and the other person was that inspired by someone real?" Kiara James on wattpad

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"Your story grabbed me from the first line it played out like a full-blown cinematic experience in my mind." Mia on wattpad

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"Your writing felt like anime scenes inked in silence. As a manga artist, I saw: emotional punch, dynamic worlds, and covers speaking voice. Your story is art-ready." Lila Grace on wattpad

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"Your story has such a nice flow!!!" sableheart_34 on wattpad 

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"Your story is absolutely captivating, every chapter keeps me reading and your characters feel like real people. I know authors get tons of comments and art offers, so i wanted to be upfront and say i'd be thrilled to make something for your story ..." Cressida Mallory on wattpad

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"I was completely immersed in your writing. The atmosphere and detail were so striking, they left me inspired ..." Rose Carmen on wattpad

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"Your story is seriously captivating and your characters feel so real, i'd love to stay in touch." cressidamallory4 on wattpad

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„Ah, die Szene ist wieder ein Lotusblütentraum, lieber Sprachmeister, meine Fantasie fliegt gerade wieder sehr wild... diese ästhetische Bibliothek ist ein fantastischer Ort dafür, ich liebe dieses erotische Setting als Idee. ‚Dorthin, an diesen Ort möchte ich mit dir wieder und wieder reisen, mich für dich befreien und dich so befreit erleben', schreibt sie ihm in fliegender Schrift, er findet den Zettel in einem der Bücher, die er seine Studien eingepackt hat." Musenzeit

A Poem of Water and Time

I remember... it was just before sunset.

The sky over Arizona wasn't just burning. It was glowing. You said nothing, and I sensed this was one of those places where you would love me in silence. The Grand Canyon.

I had seen it a thousand times in pictures, but nothing - truly nothing - prepares you for the feeling.

You find yourself inside the Earth's history book. Page by page written in stone. The Grand Canyon is one of the most spectacular geological windows on Earth. Its formation is the result of around two billion years of eruption and erosion. The oldest formations - Vishnu Schist and Zoroaster Granite - date back to the Precambrian era.

Above them lie layers of sandstone, limestone, and shale, each formed in a different climate, under different conditions—from ancient seabeds to deserts to river deltas.The colors shifted with the light. From vermilion to ochre, from sand to ash.

And far below, like a whispering thought, wound the Colorado River. Five million years of erosion had carved the canyon. You knew that. For you, it was science—for me, poetry. A poem of water and time. Three hundred million years of geological layering, visible in a single glance. As we descended deeper, down one of those old mule trails, I began to hear the canyon. Not the wind, not the animals—but the absence of noise.I felt properly sized. Finally, a scale that felt honest.

You pointed to a spot with petroglyphs—engravings in a shaded rock crevice. Signs of the Ancestral Puebloans.

Their spirits were still present—in the way the stone held warmth, or how an echo matched your heartbeat.It was all magical. I thought of the Havasupai, the "people of the blue water."

They lived in Supai Village. Their lives were entwined with the water. The river was an artery in the anatomy of their memory.

You spoke of the Hoover and Glen Canyon dams, of political lines that crossed lifelines and turned water into property.

Erosion and Eroticism

But in that hour—between light and shadow, between you and me—the canyon was a revelation not only of Earth's history.
The rock layers were deposited over hundreds of millions of years, uplifted by tectonic forces (the uplift of the Colorado Plateau around 70 million years ago), and finally incised by erosion.In terms of geological time, the Grand Canyon is young.

Around 5 to 6 million years ago, the Colorado River began to cut deeply into the plateau. To this day, the river is the canyon's chief architect. It carves ever deeper, aided by rain, frost wedging, and landslides. Erosion encapsulates a complex interplay of water, time, gravity, and climate in a single concept.Today, the canyon stretches 450 kilometers long, up to 29 kilometers wide, and in places over 1,800 meters deep. 

The Colorado used to be a wild river.

Today, it flows more steadily—an outcome with negative consequences for flora and fauna.The region has been inhabited for at least 12,000 years. Among the earliest known cultures were the Ancestral Puebloans, who left behind rock art, dwellings, and pottery.

Later peoples—including the Hopi, Navajo, Havasupai, Hualapai, and Zuni—shaped the area culturally and spiritually. For many groups, the canyon is a sacred place—origin story and identity at once.The Havasupai still live in the canyon, in Supai Village—reachable only on foot or by mule.

We found a shady resting spot and fortified ourselves with our supplies. We relied on being completely undisturbed. I could hardly wait for you to start the game. Why didn't I just start? Because it was so exciting to see you maneuver; to experience you setting the first accents. The erotic overhead lights flared up. I didn't want to get ahead of myself. It was the details. It was always the details. And it was always more exciting when you were the director than when I seduced you.

When I seduced you, it was play. When you directed, it was art. And I was ready to be led like never before in my life. At some point, it had become clear to me that only in the leadership role could you realize your potential.

A whisper ran through the trees, barely audible, as if nature were holding its breath. You moved with that quiet care that few possess. I waited, full of anticipation. In my passion, I could have cum immediately.

You wanted to create a space; you wanted to stage it. A fusion of elemental force and sensuality felt close in that moment. One look from you was enough to change the light. Not brighter, not darker, just warmer. Like an invitation. I felt my pulse adjust to the rhythm of your breath. You took the tempo out of every gesture. How your fingertips stroked my breast, yet without touching. How your voice made me vibrate. You wrote a poem on my skin with just your breath. I was ready to remember every line.That's what you wanted. To burrow into me like the Colorado River into the canyon. Vigilantly, you patrolled my boundaries. Eager for some stirring to escape me that belonged to my hidden being. I should overflow my banks and surrender myself to you. Oh, how I wanted it. Only now did your hand go under your shirt. I wore it as a flannel flag of love. You undermined the underwire of my bra.

"Make me cum right now, please, love," I begged you.

I savored your pleasure.

"Wait, let's cum together, my sweet."

You indicated what you wanted with a look. I opened your pants and freed your cock. It sprang toward me.

"Now," you said.

We kissed and rubbed each other in an act of post-juvenile mountain petting.