If I kissed it maybe I'd turn into a toad too.
Or perhaps it's a forsaken skin changer out to meet his soul mate for ages and's simply romping about in the garden, hoping today would be the day when he'd quench his thirst that's been ravaging him for centuries, to find one who fits his life like that lovelorn part of a Vedic map which turns into alien gold, whenever it find its match.
The allusive skin changer changes into a god like figure of raging loins and ravishing romance, every full moon night.
His chiseled perfection could only be put to shame by his heart wrenching, blood boiling mad lush passion that'd leave nothing to imagination save being loved by an entity you never thought could ever exist.
He'd drain your manna oh so deliciously both physically and mentally. You'd be on the precipice of the most ecstatic orgasms and he'd keep that moment of spontaneous combustion out of the reach of your quivering lips and aching groins.. till you're screaming to burst forth a damn, which is when he'd whisper intoxicating sweet nothings laced with wanton filth in your ears and you'd be in a coma of heaven for several overflowing moments.
I doubt it's that toad but perhaps I can hang a bit around it and get to know it more.
Perhaps I should start thinking about writing some billionaire romance.
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