Quincy Jones ft. Al B. Sure!, James Ingram, El DeBarge, Barry White – Secret Garden (Extended Version)
Alternate version with prelude:
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Immersion in exultation was never deeper. The taste of rapture was never sweeter. Intimacy was never so ardent. Femininity was never so delicate. Shimmering skin was never so celestial. There is no greater mystery than the depths of a woman’s levels. There are many wondrous creations under heaven’s golden streets but nothing more beautiful. The journey of discovery to find the depths of her is a marvel. To have her love is wonderful. To cry tears of joy with her as her hair caresses falling tears is indescribable. To protect her is an honor. To commit to her is the bonding of two fires that came together and grew stronger. To give her your heart is to completely trust her. To listen to her sincere utterances is the beginning of truly knowing her. To kiss her passionately is the conveyance of deep emotions silently. To keenly listen to the sounds of her ecstasy is to thoroughly know the essence of her mind, soul, and body.
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Insatiable craving gradually heightens until there is gorgeous release from just kissing and the brush of fingers against the skin. Vibrations of the rhythm of the tongue stimulates the sensitive ridge that is the outer source of her pleasure — skillful fingers massage the inner, until there are waves of undeniable euphoria. Legs are opened wider so that the tongue can be felt in the place of her most secret desire that was discovered, giving way to heavy breathing, writhing, squirting and then screaming. Unending craving always leads to marathon fucking and the potency of ecstasy that is replayed upon the sun’s rising and in their sleeping when erotic dreams visit them and they fuck again and again releasing intensely like a glorious waterfall with no end surrounded by white and burgundy roses in a secret garden.
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The full weight of wet passion falls and rises continuously in beautiful rhythm on a large circumference of hardness, her breasts heaving against his chest with every deep breath as she releases again and again until there is nothing left but the echoes of euphoric screams and the erotic core of her essence. It was the skillful use of his tongue between her legs that first caused her to break the stagnant silence, looking at her lover intently as she continuously brushed her fingers against the sensitive nipples of her breasts. She reaches ecstasy easily because of the receptiveness of her flesh. All day she had been wet, waiting to aggressively mount what she had already experienced, because she knows the feeling of his depth; oh, how she loves his depth. When they fuck they always work up a good sweat from the heat of shared passion that defines the most intimate parts of them. She likes many positions, but when she is ready for an intense transcendency she rides him aggressively, assertively taking what belongs to her in exceptional ecstasy that she has to have continuously and thoroughly.
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Today, before witnesses we confess our undying love and make known public our oneness. I am your man, and you are my woman — graceful, beautiful and feminine. Forever, let not our foundation be shaken or the sentiment of our words be mistaken, for with each other we are taken; we are eternally taken. Let your heart be my heart and my heart be your heart so we can eternally be divinely connected and steeped in each other’s feelings. Let it be written by the angels that I love you with a purity and sincerity that cannot be transcended. May the fire of our desire for each other never be quenched, and may we comfort of each other’s souls. In the bitterness of cold darkness you are my shelter of warmth and light. You are the angel in my sight. Kiss me passionately, and let me gaze upon your gorgeous adornment in white. Let us exchange the symbols of our eternal love without vain pretense and the corrosive decadence that brings ruin. Once, we were both unloved, but fate brought us together in the twilight. You are my light; my love, you are indeed my light. Without hesitation or apprehension, I dedicate myself to you for life — my love, you are my life. Still, you are there in my dreams, and you are there with unfurled hair upon my awakening. My tears are the joyfulness of my expression. Sweetheart, you are beautiful beyond measure.
When I first beheld you I wanted to hold you, and I loved you; I swear on the heavens that I loved you. Search my heart diligently, and if I am lying, then forever leave me. But you have already searched my heart, and you have seen the beauty of my sincerity. I am yours, and you are mine completely. Now, let us again kiss passionately in the congregation of our distinguished guests. Embrace me tightly — let me feel the sensuality of your lips and your breasts. May the world witness my love for you and gaze upon the truth of my depths. I give you all of me, holding nothing back, but I am not empty, for it is endless love that fills me. When I was shattered utterly it was only the hope of love that sustained me. My eyes fell upon you, and you saved me; my lady, with loving eyes you saved me. Our intimacy is something otherworldly, unadulterated in wondrous purity. The desire to please you thoroughly wells up within me. You give yourself to me totally, and on this day, I touch you delicately; in my arms, my angel, before witnesses I confess my love for you loudly and with joyful tears, I touch you delicately.
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Satin caresses what craves to be sensually touched and what is extremely stimulated with just a light brush. After euphoric screams there is a wondrous hush; such a wondrous hush. Her hair is tangled, and she appears disheveled, but pleasure never looked so beautiful; I swear it never looked so beautiful. They call her whore, because of the expressiveness of her eroticism, but they could never reach the depths of a woman; emotionless men could never touch the soul of a woman. They are frail and are shaken when beautiful eyes gaze upon them. The secrecy of her intimacy is a lovely mystery interwoven with erotic potency that brings her and her lovers to ecstasy perfectly and easily creating a transcendent intimacy that is indescribably intense and otherworldly. She wants to be touched — sometimes delicately; sometimes roughly. The essence of her is contradictory to monotony and she remains immersed in the eroticism that she embodies.
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Pebbles – Love Makes Things Happen
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The unwritten sentences of my heart are of love. passion, and sorrow. My lips yearn to feel again the exquisiteness of a passionate kiss. The beauty of her smile is indelible upon my withered soul. For so many seasons I have longed for warmth, but my portion has been listlessness and bitter cold. The depths of my heart are many mysteries untold. For just once, can I not taste of love in its unadulterated pureness? I was conceived in pain, and in pain is where I still remain. In shackles of loneliness and desolation I am restrained in heavy chains. The crow perches above me and recites beautiful poems to keep me going, and my withered soul prays for rain. I swear on all that is dear to me that I pray for rain. Even when I can see glimpses of the sun’s rays, the devastation of my soul does not wane. I swear it does not wane. I call on heaven to take away the pain, but the darkness swallows up the bellowing of my misery. My resolve is dampened, but yet I am here. For what purpose do I exist save to endure incessant torment for the rest of my days? After years of heavy sorrow there is no more weeping, and acceptance of one’s fate sets in. The bottomless pit seeks to swallow me whole and totally decimate me. Oh, Lord of my Fathers, look down upon your rugged son and see the extent of his desolation. Reverse time, so that I can once again feel the warmth of my mothers bosom. Let me go to a place where an angel awaits and unload my burdens as she kisses me tenderly. Let pain not forever be my portion but love, peace, and majesty. Restore to me what was lost when my heart shattered and the vultures circled over me seeking to consume the remnants of what once made me happy. Even the memory of the wonderful scent of her hair haunts me. I swear it haunts me. At night, she comes to me, whispering: my love is a deep well; draw from me — and I drink of her essence to sustain me. I swear somehow she sustains me. For hours, I meditate upon the beauty of her love in divine intimacy. We feel each other deeply in transcendence from mere physicality. In my frailty, she is the heart that beats for me; I swear she is the heart that beats for me. In my dry desolation, she is the oasis that awaits me. Haunt me, my love. Haunt me beautifully.
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You are a book of blessed verses with joyous tears of angels permeated in all the pages. You are eternal beauty that never ages. You are a beautiful vineyard surrounded by a vast field of roses. You are a diamond — the most beautiful; the rarest. You are the precious memories that wipe away widows tears. You are the depths of a loving heart yet to be discovered. You are the indescribable emotions within a new mother who just delivered. You are a passionate kiss that causes the heart to flutter. You are the essence of the beauty of dusk in the summer. You are one thousand roses laid softly on white marble arrayed in different colors. You are the subtle movements of the eyes that clearly convey emotions that could never be verbally described. You are the soaring eagles that grace red skies. You are the beautiful depths of the soul where love abides. You are the angel that I reach for when I cry. You are ethereal in nature; something beautiful, delicate, and intricate that is difficult to capture. You are sweet rapture. You are the embodiment of what was divinely created in wondrous inception and nothing after. You are the healing power of laughter. You are the reflection of celestial elements sprinkled throughout the vastness of undiscovered galaxies. You’re existence is a wonderful reality. You are love in unadulterated purity. You are the eyes that see for me when I can’t see. Even the angels envy your beauty. You are that quiet resilience within me. You are that deep loving embrace when I weep. You are who I think about about after I arise and before I sleep. You are the snowflakes that fall on passionate lovers. You are immortalized in me eyes. You are like no other.
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Euphoric flesh is wonderfully graced with black lace. Sensual contours are held tightly within an embroidered embrace. Light sprays of floral perfume add to beautiful perfection. Lace against the skin feels heavenly, and it is aesthetically pleasing. Black lace accentuates the wondrous femininity of a woman. Gaze upon her thoughtfully, and contemplate the erotic origin of her sexual expression. Embroidered darkness holds her body in sweet caress — she exudes confidence; she is the embodiment of sexiness. Lace that inadvertently brushes against the erect nipples of her breasts cause her to be wet; the natural lubricant of her desire permeates the black embroidery that is between her legs, but the dark material holds her secret. The contrast of black lace against her skin is akin to a rare majestic painting; under pink satin sheets it becomes even more amazing.
Intimate Compositions 