Lost in the Velvet Night of Amina

The day advanced as if to light some work of mine; it was morning, and lo! now it is evening, and nothing memorable is accomplished. Yet, as I stood on the moonlit rooftop of the Marrakech Riad, I felt the night unfolding like a velvet cloak, shrouding me in its mystery.

The scent of jasmine wafted through the air, entwining itself with the sweet perfume of my companion, Amina. Her skin, like alabaster, glowed in the soft light, as she reclined on a plush divan, her long, dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of night. I watched, entranced, as she raised a delicate hand, and a small, crystal glass hovered above her lips.

The ice in the glass clinked softly as she sipped her champagne, her eyes meeting mine with a hint of mischief. As the stars began to twinkle above, Amina rose, her movements fluid and sensual, like a cat unfolding from a languid stretch. She glided across the rooftop, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cool marble.

I followed, my heart pounding in anticipation, as she led me to a secluded corner, where a small, ornate box lay waiting. With a delicate smile, Amina lifted the lid, revealing a treasure trove of silk scarves, each one a vibrant hue, like a burst of tropical flowers. She chose one, a deep, crimson red, and wrapped it around my eyes, the soft fabric a gentle caress against my skin.

I felt her fingers brush against mine, and a shiver ran down my spine, as she guided me to a nearby chaise longue. The world narrowed to a single point, as Amina's lips brushed against mine, her breath a whispered promise of pleasure. The night air was alive with the scent of jasmine, and the soft rustle of the scarves, as she undid the knot, and the fabric fell away, revealing my eyes to the moonlit night. Amina's gaze met mine, and I knew, in that instant, that nothing memorable would ever be accomplished, for in her eyes, I was lost forever.