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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [mature]  ||Hell in a Hand Basket|| {Molotov}
    #11

    The wind had grown colder since the start of their meeting, if that was even possible. Even though only mere moments had passed between them he felt as if time had somehow slowed. Around them, the forest had grown quieter. Almost as if every creature was leaning out of their nests to see the odd silent exchange between the two strangers. He could have laughed at the idea of how odd they must seem to any potential on-looker. What, with him speaking out loud and her communicating silently. They were surely a sight enough to confuse anyone.
     
    She intended to leave, that much had been made obvious, and he had half the mind to let her. The memory of her kisses tingled along his flesh like the touch of a ghost. It had been too long since he’d been able to pleasure himself and here before him was a mare who, although odd in every other meaning of the word, was stunning in her own right. And, just as he’d suspected, the moment he no longer played into her hand, her interest waned.
     
    Suddenly distracted she drifted away from him, back in the direction in which she had came. Her previous flirtatious nature melted away to reveal a cold exterior – one made up of complete disinterest. He could have laughed at how predictable she was. So long as he was willing to play her little game, she was more than happy to offer him the one thing that she knew he’d want from her. He wasn’t interested in company or conversation. Sex, however…
     
    He was the user, not the used and as she walked away from him he darted to block off her path. A wicked smile spread across his lips. ”Why, leaving so soon?” he asked flirtatiously. ”And without a kiss goodbye?” He pouted dramatically.
     
    As he circled around to her rear he flicked his tail under her chin and nipped at her under belly. He lingered a moment at her rear before circling back towards her front once more, grabbing a chunk of her mane between his teeth and tugging roughly.
     
    Your move, love.
     
    He was playing with fire now and he loved it.

    Arithmetic
    I Don't Make Love


    @[Molotov]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: ||Hell in a Hand Basket|| {open} - by Molotov - 02-24-2018, 09:56 PM
    RE: ||Hell in a Hand Basket|| {Molotov} - by Arithmetic - 03-11-2018, 11:04 AM



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