October 06, 2019, 12:37 PM
(This post was last modified: October 06, 2019, 02:25 PM by Andraste.)
Rejuvenation in his chords; resignation in his kiss;
and as he sighed and spoke into her lips Andraste could only simmer, seethe. “So,” desecrated features softened with sulking, “you will torment me while I wait?” Fanged at his dark chin, aquiver. Had he not been heralded here to tend to her? Was he not here to treat her turmoil? She let this aching cleave waxen thighs so that he might now scent her; tail crescenting, unveiling. Would he only watch her writhe with this wanting? ... Then, she would devour him as the earth would never;
and it was with an impish insolence that Andraste unfurled; rising to press herself like pale songnote into the musiker, murmuring for him to lie with her;
and though it was lost upon the marred mouth, there was a simper that alit within the slumberly halfsight.
She would not coerce his person into such taking;
yet her lips part, leaden with the covetous requests she could plead by him — and is stilled by the preything spirit that diminishes (for now) upon ruined features as she looks upon his own and his figure.
Instead:
"Teach me your tongue,” the silver muses, unsettled, pale belly to the heather ribs; paler arms wended about the breadth of mauve shoulders. The rigidity of hewn male beneath her is intoxicating, however; she wants to bed within the pillared hold of him and the stricken so very nearly falters; command does not suit her. Refashioned to hollowness and she yearns to feel hallowed!
Though breathless that she becomes: “Tell me what you wish me to say,” foolish, starlit, shying from the lavender of him. The words feel as if they might drip down her throat before given voice, “and I would say I will ... miss you.” Stilted lull; half-exhumed, strangeling heart aflutter; feather-thin breast to his. “Much.”
Sights return — finally — to that of the composer beneath her. He is the smelter of the brand upon her back and yet her own refigured soul sings and anguishes for his all the same.
(Having felled herself into her own ensnarement or no.)
and as he sighed and spoke into her lips Andraste could only simmer, seethe. “So,” desecrated features softened with sulking, “you will torment me while I wait?” Fanged at his dark chin, aquiver. Had he not been heralded here to tend to her? Was he not here to treat her turmoil? She let this aching cleave waxen thighs so that he might now scent her; tail crescenting, unveiling. Would he only watch her writhe with this wanting? ... Then, she would devour him as the earth would never;
and it was with an impish insolence that Andraste unfurled; rising to press herself like pale songnote into the musiker, murmuring for him to lie with her;
and though it was lost upon the marred mouth, there was a simper that alit within the slumberly halfsight.
She would not coerce his person into such taking;
yet her lips part, leaden with the covetous requests she could plead by him — and is stilled by the preything spirit that diminishes (for now) upon ruined features as she looks upon his own and his figure.
Instead:
"Teach me your tongue,” the silver muses, unsettled, pale belly to the heather ribs; paler arms wended about the breadth of mauve shoulders. The rigidity of hewn male beneath her is intoxicating, however; she wants to bed within the pillared hold of him and the stricken so very nearly falters; command does not suit her. Refashioned to hollowness and she yearns to feel hallowed!
Though breathless that she becomes: “Tell me what you wish me to say,” foolish, starlit, shying from the lavender of him. The words feel as if they might drip down her throat before given voice, “and I would say I will ... miss you.” Stilted lull; half-exhumed, strangeling heart aflutter; feather-thin breast to his. “Much.”
Sights return — finally — to that of the composer beneath her. He is the smelter of the brand upon her back and yet her own refigured soul sings and anguishes for his all the same.
(Having felled herself into her own ensnarement or no.)
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Messages In This Thread
ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen (mtr.) - by Andraste - September 22, 2019, 03:30 AM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Mahler - September 28, 2019, 09:15 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Andraste - September 29, 2019, 02:35 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Mahler - October 01, 2019, 11:36 AM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Andraste - October 01, 2019, 03:12 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Mahler - October 05, 2019, 06:26 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Andraste - October 06, 2019, 12:37 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Mahler - October 06, 2019, 02:00 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Andraste - October 06, 2019, 05:27 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen - by Mahler - October 11, 2019, 12:13 AM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen (mtr.) - by Andraste - October 11, 2019, 09:00 AM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen (mtr.) - by Mahler - October 18, 2019, 12:57 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen (mtr.) - by Andraste - October 18, 2019, 09:58 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen (mtr.) - by Mahler - October 26, 2019, 06:49 PM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen (mtr.) - by Andraste - October 27, 2019, 05:38 AM
RE: ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ dornröschen (mtr.) - by Mahler - November 02, 2019, 07:44 PM