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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]  Torture.
    #6
    It is fitting. They are fitting. Petite and muscular, short and tall, equally dark in color, female and male. They both know the songs of the Earth, they’ve both heard the voice of Mother Nature and responded in turn, they both feel the way the world spins under their feet and the way the seasons shift around them.

    The simpleness of her presence undoes him, just as the strength of his own will undo her. She holds control over him one minute (her legs sliding along either side of his chiseled hips) but the next moment it will be snatched from her (her legs spread wide to make way for his length). He knows she delights in this, for he delights in it just as much.

    Her tail flicks out of the way, revealing the sweetness nestled between her legs. Torture smirks as her hips grind closer toward him, as her entire writhing body craves his touch in whatever form it might come in. He huffs another teasing breath between her thighs. The cry of her desire sends a low growl from the depths of his throat and he decides to indulge her.

    His mouth is passionate and quick against her womanly flower. Torture doesn’t waste any time — not like he had previously, but rather he devours her as though she were a rare delicacy — in enjoying her. However, he does not spend long with his lips between her thighs either. The pull of his own arousal brings him to instinctively run his nose up over the slope of her croup, where his teeth place scraping bites.

    Torture is quick to mount her, forelegs tightening around the lithe muscle of her sides. The ebony stallion shifts his hips quickly to thrust his large length deep inside of her, a low moan coming from his mouth upon their union. His legs grip tighter as he thrusts again, this time his neck leans down so that his teeth can seize a chunk of her mane nestled against the slope of her withers. With each push of his hips, Torture allows his hooves to scrape against her sides (truly leaving his mark to prove their discovery of one another if there weren’t signs before).

    He is vicious and hardy, moving with energetic passion into her depths. Gruff sounds expel from his throat with every push of his length and he digs his teeth deeper into the mess of her withers. Despite the pressure of his desire for relief bearing down on him, he waits for her release. As her muscles contract around him, Torture finally liberates himself deep into her.

    He groans through the relief, heat swallowing him deliciously. When he climbs off her sweaty body, Torture gives his soaked body a shake. Then he curls himself against her lithe sides, beginning to groom the knots nestled against the bend of her neck. He says nothing — always a man of few words — but won’t hesitate to respond to any prompts she might give.

    (this is a shit post but you know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also yes i used the word womanly flower bc i'm lame)
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    Messages In This Thread
    Torture. - by Trissy - 12-19-2017, 01:19 AM
    RE: Torture. - by Torture - 12-22-2017, 01:46 AM
    RE: Torture. - by Trissy - 12-23-2017, 02:03 AM
    RE: Torture. - by Torture - 12-26-2017, 11:51 PM
    RE: Torture. - by Trissy - 01-03-2018, 11:13 PM
    RE: Torture. - by Torture - 01-07-2018, 12:02 AM
    RE: Torture. - by Trissy - 01-10-2018, 12:51 AM



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