11-09-2017, 11:17 PM
Ellyse
I have the tendency of getting very physical,
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
so watch your step 'cause if I do you'll need a miracle.
A soft moan escapes the tightness of her throat, where her breath catches when his weight is upon her, while the darkness of his legs wrap around her own, drawing her hips closer to him where the heat of his desire lay.
The warmth of his breath across her shoulder while his teeth press and bite gently at her golden skin causes her to gasp softly and writhe toward him, shifting beneath his weight while the desire building within her loin causes her to ache. The fullness of him elicits a deep groan and a soft whisper of his name on her pale lips, and it is nothing like the first time shared beneath a hazy, starless night, so guarded and seeking sheer pleasure to distract from loneliness. It had been a fervent but empty; a feeble attempt to bury an ache for him and for her.
The gentle caress of his lips across her quivering spine and the slow and rhythmic pace makes her tremble and press closer to him. The breathiness in each rough, husky moan whispered against her skin rouses a groan of her own from her throat as he is brought closer (deeper) with each thrust. She is lost to the moment, enveloped by the heat of his skin pressed against her own, and intoxicated by the sensation of him. With her chin tilted toward the starlit sky, as it bathed their fused bodies in a celestial glow, her hazel eye searches the darkness of his own, slow and wanton moans drawn out of her throat with deepening desire.
She does not shy away from the intimacy shared with him – keeping his gaze locked with her own, while the slow and methodical pace of his writhing hips bring her to the precarious edge of her own undoing. With each movement forward, she embraces him, clutching him closer to her. With a strangled moan of his name, she is tightening around him, while the heavy tide of her climax washes over her in thick, heavy waves, drawing her further out to a sea of his affection – anchored to him as she had never thought possible while he buries himself and his seed inside of her.
Her breath is lost to her for a moment, while each nerve-ending is lit with a flickering flame of sated desire, causing her to shiver and to shake. When the warmth of his cheek brushes across the curve of her hip as he is bound to the soil with gravity once more, her desire to feel his weight again strengthens. Languidly, her gaze is cast toward him again, with her dampened ivory forelock draped over her cheek, as her legs pivot to press closer to him. Her pale mouth touches the sharp angle of his jaw and the softness of his whiskered lips. Quietly, softly, her lips brush against his own – an intimacy never shared with him (the physical urgency of their coupling long ago had no place for affection, nor for connection – a kiss meant closeness, it meant tenderness and she had been too wary, too cautious then).
A kiss pressed where it had never been before.
She can hardly suppress the foolish smile from tugging at the corner of her mouth. Inebriated by his warmth, she is sated and yet wanting more of him, her lips trail across his jaw, savoring the feel of his rapid pulse thrumming from the sheer adrenaline and intensity of their union.
Softly, quietly, with a mirthful lilt of laughter hidden within the breathlessness, she murmurs simply, “Wow.”
The warmth of his breath across her shoulder while his teeth press and bite gently at her golden skin causes her to gasp softly and writhe toward him, shifting beneath his weight while the desire building within her loin causes her to ache. The fullness of him elicits a deep groan and a soft whisper of his name on her pale lips, and it is nothing like the first time shared beneath a hazy, starless night, so guarded and seeking sheer pleasure to distract from loneliness. It had been a fervent but empty; a feeble attempt to bury an ache for him and for her.
The gentle caress of his lips across her quivering spine and the slow and rhythmic pace makes her tremble and press closer to him. The breathiness in each rough, husky moan whispered against her skin rouses a groan of her own from her throat as he is brought closer (deeper) with each thrust. She is lost to the moment, enveloped by the heat of his skin pressed against her own, and intoxicated by the sensation of him. With her chin tilted toward the starlit sky, as it bathed their fused bodies in a celestial glow, her hazel eye searches the darkness of his own, slow and wanton moans drawn out of her throat with deepening desire.
She does not shy away from the intimacy shared with him – keeping his gaze locked with her own, while the slow and methodical pace of his writhing hips bring her to the precarious edge of her own undoing. With each movement forward, she embraces him, clutching him closer to her. With a strangled moan of his name, she is tightening around him, while the heavy tide of her climax washes over her in thick, heavy waves, drawing her further out to a sea of his affection – anchored to him as she had never thought possible while he buries himself and his seed inside of her.
Her breath is lost to her for a moment, while each nerve-ending is lit with a flickering flame of sated desire, causing her to shiver and to shake. When the warmth of his cheek brushes across the curve of her hip as he is bound to the soil with gravity once more, her desire to feel his weight again strengthens. Languidly, her gaze is cast toward him again, with her dampened ivory forelock draped over her cheek, as her legs pivot to press closer to him. Her pale mouth touches the sharp angle of his jaw and the softness of his whiskered lips. Quietly, softly, her lips brush against his own – an intimacy never shared with him (the physical urgency of their coupling long ago had no place for affection, nor for connection – a kiss meant closeness, it meant tenderness and she had been too wary, too cautious then).
A kiss pressed where it had never been before.
She can hardly suppress the foolish smile from tugging at the corner of her mouth. Inebriated by his warmth, she is sated and yet wanting more of him, her lips trail across his jaw, savoring the feel of his rapid pulse thrumming from the sheer adrenaline and intensity of their union.
Softly, quietly, with a mirthful lilt of laughter hidden within the breathlessness, she murmurs simply, “Wow.”
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone;
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
you're not fit to fucking tread the ground that I am walking on.
@[Dahmer]