|This post contains adult themes.|
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So, without further ado, onto today's drabble...
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING WORK OF FICTION MAY CONTAIN ADULT THEMES AND LANGUAGE.
When I read 'olive', I thought 'grove', and the I thought 'sacred', and then this evolved.
The Olive Grove was taboo. Stanios had been told trespass would cost him his life. Yet, it was not his life he was paying with. Two sinuous twigs wound their way round his thighs and back between his legs, finally slipping up and parting his buttocks. Then a third, thicker branch rose between them, pushing him open.
Stanios moaned, rocking out over the drop under the branch on which he was kneeling. Yet strong foliage entwined with his fingers, supporting. More was already gathered over his straining erection.
Pleasure erupting from deep inside, Stanios surrendered his passion to the grove.
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