Exhilarating emotions of a roller coaster gripping the inner folds of her inner being.
Whip lashed as she uncontrollably clenches. Gasps. Clenches. Gags.
A scarlet of a whisper escapes her tenuously parted lips.
Her tongue trembling travels to catch the excess savoring each morsel.
Stretching her joints defacing the bruising of the previous actions.
Aching with the query of release. Satisfaction.
Thoroughly scanning her body, searching for the tender moment of completion.
A sigh ruffled the thinly laced silence.
Unfurling from the safe harbor, wiggling to caress the ease.
Ooh.
A sea of delight as she purrs.
Chocolat.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
the Lady pukes her Heart
In retrospect, the Lady failed herself. Letting her dreamy idealism conflict with the reality of sorrow.
Charmed she was to fall for his enigmatic nature. Purposefully ignorant that he wasn't Angel or Edward.
He isn't Mr. Darcy.
Yet, still the Lady fought and wished earnestly to give the benefit of doubt so consumed with knowing they weren't ill-fated.
But soul mates.
Perhaps the peaceful countenance she felt was the haphazard haze of consistent bruising of regret, adoration, agony, relief.
Lust or Love. Or was it a meeting on the metaphysical to transcend into the bedding of the physical?
He knows not who the Lady was. What they do. Who view whats. She knows him not.
Delighting in the clouded mystery.
The Lady was so eager to give her heart and wait for the wind to return.
Still awashed in the short sighted memories that are benign based upon the severity of the circumstances.
Now slightly crushed and her human nature is ruined.
Merely a phantom of the former being.
The Lady's awakening still slumbers.
Charmed she was to fall for his enigmatic nature. Purposefully ignorant that he wasn't Angel or Edward.
He isn't Mr. Darcy.
Yet, still the Lady fought and wished earnestly to give the benefit of doubt so consumed with knowing they weren't ill-fated.
But soul mates.
Perhaps the peaceful countenance she felt was the haphazard haze of consistent bruising of regret, adoration, agony, relief.
Lust or Love. Or was it a meeting on the metaphysical to transcend into the bedding of the physical?
He knows not who the Lady was. What they do. Who view whats. She knows him not.
Delighting in the clouded mystery.
The Lady was so eager to give her heart and wait for the wind to return.
Still awashed in the short sighted memories that are benign based upon the severity of the circumstances.
Now slightly crushed and her human nature is ruined.
Merely a phantom of the former being.
The Lady's awakening still slumbers.
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