The first paragraph

[Cagivagurl]

My gaze could be described as nothing more less than Desire. I looked on enthralled and intensely invested.
The young girl danced sensuously on the footpath, her body swaying seductively. Her hips undulating like rolling waves splashing, lapping upon a golden beach.
The guitar in her hands shone, glistening in the midday sun. She writhed to the sounds of her personal rhythm. her fingers danced, sliding up and down the fret board
Her head back, eyes closed. Her voice echoing like melting caramel on ice cream.
Lost in her song, she drew us into her magical world. My heart beat in time, my foot tapped, and my hips, much like hers, started top sway.

 

[anthrodisiac]

I run a talon through my feathers and nervously pat them down as they anxiously crest. Big date tonight. That hunky utahraptor from the company picnic has been chatting me up for a couple weeks, but I think I've done a good job playing it cool — the blasé archaeopteryx who could stop a charging triceratops at twenty paces with a smouldering grin of the snout. But now that it's almost time, I'm all nervous giggles, hissy awkward squawks, and my damn tail won't stop fidgeting and bumping against every damn thing in the apartment, making me fix the muss and get my plumage under control. Gods, I hope he finds it charming, doesn't realize what a dorky little dino bird I am. Or that he does, and it makes him want to take me in his lanky-ass arms and run his claws through my feathers until I'm a puddle begging him to put a clutch in me. Oh boy, don't bring up laying eggs, don't bring up laying eggs... This can't be Terry all over again.

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From my upcoming tell-all, Diary of a Clutch Slut