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Lemuria was hungry. Her whole body lit up with sensation. Her neck prickled, the fine downy hair on her shoulders and back was erect, vibrating beneath the sun's touch, her small breasts ached and the tiny nubs of her nipples pushed hard against the thin fabric of her dress, caressing themselves endlessly against the material's soft touch, whilst her lower stomach tingled as a never ending drumbeat of sensation played within her and between her legs and an unstoppable, endless flow of moisture was seeping from her, sliding down her legs, leaving her thighs soaking, shiny, and aromatic.

The scent felt thick in her nostrils, reminded her of bodies that had danced until their skin had glowed and small droplets of moisture had formed. She tasted it with a curious finger, thick and sticky like honey but with a warm, salty flavour. She'd tried to clean herself with her hand, but every time she wiped the liquid away, a spasm shook her body and fresh juices seeped down to replace what she'd removed and as much as she licked off one finger, there was enough left to coat two more.

Suckling happily at her fingers, Lemuria, barely notice the thinning of the trees as she approached the forest edge, and she passed down amongst the thick long stems of the meadow grasses. Butterflies fluttered about her, bees zipped past on important business, crickets and grasshoppers chirruped out greetings but Lemuria was unaware of anything beyond the steadily building crescendo of her own bodily ...

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